


Second Summer

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: In The Bubble [10]
Category: Glee
Genre: Amateur Piercing, American Football, And Misunderstanding What You See, Breaking Up & Making Up, Father-Son Relationship, First Job, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mercedes Being Really Fucking Tolerant, Pre-Season 1, There Isn't Even A Tag for This Ship, Violence, Walking In On Someone, early season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 16:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hot weather and hotter tempers flare as the boys start their first real jobs under the watchful eye of Burt Hummel. Emotions run too close to the surface to remain hidden. Their social bubble expands by two, despite Puck's suspicions about ass-checking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Summer

“Noah?”

“Just getting more pop, Ma!” Puck calls back, opening the refrigerator door and sticking his head in for longer than necessary. It’s not even June yet, but it’s already hot outside, especially in the sun, which is where he, Kurt, and Finn are sitting. He grabs three more cans of pop and straightens, waiting almost expectantly for his ma to say something else. When she doesn’t, he sighs, relieved, and then stands in the kitchen silently for a few moments. 

Lately, all of her discussions with Puck have centered around one thing and one thing only: how Puck should find a job for the summer. Puck doesn’t exactly disagree with her, because he’d like to have more money than he usually does, but he doesn’t like it being harped on repeatedly. He doesn’t want to work in some fast food joint, either, and end up smelling like old grease. Finn probably wouldn’t care too much, though he’d notice, and Kurt would definitely notice _and_ care. 

Puck opens the door and heads back outside, dropping into his chair and passing out the cans of pop. “We need jobs,” he announces. If the three of them could at least work together, then it wouldn’t be as bad. 

“What kind of jobs?” Finn asks. “I don’t think anybody would want us as babysitters.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anyone’s babysitter,” Kurt says dismissively.

“The kind that pays money, I guess,” Puck answers. “And you already _are_ a babysitter, Kurt.”

“Hmph,” is all Kurt has to say to that. 

“Kurrrrrt, can we stay up late tonight?” Finn whine, leaning over to rest his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “Pleeeeease?”

“I don’t wannnna put my clothes on,” Puck adds. 

“Can we have pizza for dinnerrrrrr?” Finn continues.

“I might just call Mercedes and see if _she_ is better behaved,” Kurt warns. 

“We’re a lot more fun than Mercedes, without clothes late at night,” Puck points out. “But seriously, jobs. That aren’t babysitting.”

“I’m not good at anything,” Finn says. “I mean, not at anything I could do for money, anyway.”

“Don’t places do training and shit?” Puck asks. “I mean, how else would people ever get a first job?”

“We could work at the Home Depot,” Finn suggests.

“Would they let us saw anything though?” Puck frowns, then grins at Kurt. “ _I_ know!”

“Oh dear. What do you know?” Kurt asks.

“We should work for your dad!”

“Oh god no, no no no,” Kurt says hurriedly. “That’s a terrible idea. The last thing either of you need is—”

“Hey, that’s smart!” Finn says, grinning at Puck. “We can keep an eye on him that way.”

“Nobody needs to have an eye kept on them,” Kurt insists. 

“No, your dad totally does,” Puck argues. “And that way you won’t miss us all summer, see? Your dad’s good at training people, right?”

“I bet you look hot in your coveralls,” Finn says.

“Oh, yeah.” Puck nods. “I bet so. And that way Finn and I’ll know how to do _something_ when we move to Paris.”

“And we can buy you pretty stuff so you’ll keep liking us,” Finn says, sounding very reasonable.

“Fine, I’ll talk to him,” Kurt sighs. “No promises, though, and please behave yourselves.”

“You know what I bet’s like the awesomest thing ever?” Finn asks Puck.

“What?” Puck asks. 

“Undoing Kurt’s coveralls and blowing him while he’s still got ‘em on,” Finn says. Kurt, of course, blushes bright pink, but doesn’t protest. “See? Kurt agrees with me,” Finn adds.

“Oh, yeah,” Puck says, nodding and smirking. “That sounds like a great idea.” 

“You can talk to your dad tomorrow,” Finn tells Kurt. Puck nods again, more vigorously.

“Okay. I will,” Kurt says. He sounds a little breathy and high-pitched. Luckily, Kurt doesn’t seem to have thought about the fact that the odds of the three of them, or some combination of the three of them, getting caught go up a lot if they’re around Burt regularly. 

Puck grins. “Awesome.” He rolls onto his side, flicking his eyes towards the still-closed back door once before running his hand down Kurt’s arm. “You know, my ma’s taking Julie somewhere in about fifteen minutes, and no one else is around.”

“Puck!” Kurt squawks. “We’re outside!”

“Ooh, yeah, he can sit in your lap on your lawnchair while I suck his dick,” Finn says, sounding like he might think that’s the best idea ever.

“See, you’ll make Finn sad if he can’t suck your dick outside,” Puck argues. “It’s like fancy dining outside. And then I’ll sit in Finn’s lap and we all swap, see?”

“It’s true,” Finn says, making a sad face at Kurt. “Look at my sadness.”

“Oh my god,” Kurt says. “Fine!”

“You should come sit in my lap now,” Puck says. “Just so you have time to get comfortable.”

“Not just ‘cause you want your dick against his ass?” Finn asks. 

“His ass pressed against my dick is another factor,” Puck admits, straightening a little and tugging on Kurt’s arm. “It’s a nice ass.”

Kurt sighs dramatically and stands up, moving from his chair to Puck’s lap, where he makes a big deal out of wiggling around to get comfortable. “Your lap is lumpy.”

“Well, yeah, ‘cause I’m hard now,” Puck says, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s chest. “Which totally wasn’t why you were wiggling, I’m sure.”

“I’m wiggling because you’re lumpy!”

“Yeah, I’m a lot lumpier than I was,” Puck says, laughing. 

“Hmph,” Kurt says.

“Hey! You know what else would be awesome?” Finn asks. Puck nudges Kurt’s side with one hand, nodding his head towards Finn. 

Kurt huffs quietly, but asks, “What would?”

“If Puck fucked you like this while I suck you off!” Finn says. “Don’t you think that would be awesome?”

“Oh my _god_ , not outside!” Kurt squeals.

“No, that’d make it even awesomer,” Puck argues. “You’ll be nice and warm and—” He makes a show of smelling Kurt’s hair. “Smell like outside _and_ sex.”

“I can go in and get the lube,” Finn offers eagerly. “I don’t mind!”

“Tell him to get it,” Puck says, whispering to Kurt. “You like it when one of us fucks you and the other blows you.” 

“Puck,” Kurt whines. 

“I know you do,” Puck continues. “You like it just as much as we do.”

Kurt leans back, so he’s pressed against Puck’s chest with his head lolling on Puck’s shoulder. “Yes, Finn, you can go get it,” Kurt says. 

“Awesome! I’ll be right back,” Finn announces, hurrying into the house. 

“Now I’m _really_ hard,” Puck says, pushing his dick up against Kurt’s ass. “See?”

Kurt nods slowly, then wriggles in Puck’s lap again, intentionally grinding down against Puck’s dick. Finn re-emerges from the house then, bottle of lube held in the air.

“Your mom and Julie are gone!” Finn says.

“Good.” Puck grins at Finn. “You want to unfasten his pants or you want me to?”

“You should do it,” Finn encourages. 

“Awesome.” Puck slides his hands down Kurt’s chest and to Kurt’s waistband. “I have a complaint about these shorts, by the way,” he says to Kurt as he starts to unbutton the shorts. 

“Oh?” Kurt asks, still squirming against Puck’s lap. 

“Yep.” Puck lowers the zipper and puts his palm against Kurt’s dick, through his underwear. “They’re too long. Also, they’re not tight enough.” 

“That’s two complaints,” Finn points out. “You have _two_ complaints.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Puck agrees, sliding his fingers under the elastic on Kurt’s underwear. “Lift your hips a second, Pretty.”

Kurt blushes again, lifting his hips so Puck can slide the shorts and underwear down past Kurt’s knees. 

“Look at that ass,” Puck says. “We’re pretty lucky, Finn.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s our pretty baby,” Finn says happily. 

“Yeah, he is.” Puck stretches his hand out for the lube. “Right, Kurt? You are, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Kurt agrees, nodding. Finn flips open the bottle and dumps lube onto Puck’s fingers. 

“Lift up again for me,” Puck instructs, waiting until Kurt’s hips are a few inches off his lap before running his lubed fingers around Kurt’s hole. “Yeah, that’s good,” he says, pushing one finger inside. “You can sit back down now.” 

Kurt slowly lowers himself onto Puck’s finger, the jerks his hips up again. Puck grins and wraps his free arm around Kurt again, pushing Kurt’s shirt up on his chest to make sure his dick is standing out. Kurt makes his little chirping noises and wiggles around on Puck’s finger.

“Aw,” Finn says. “I think he wants more, Puck.”

“I don’t know, he hasn’t said,” Puck points out, kissing the side of Kurt’s neck. Kurt whimpers pitifully.

“Awwww. He’s so _sad_ ,” Finn says. “Kurt, you better tell him what you want.”

“More,” Kurt whines.

“How much more?” Puck asks, kissing around Kurt’s ear. 

“ _More_ ,” Kurt repeats. 

“Another finger? Two more fingers? My dick?” Puck asks. 

“Puck,” Kurt says, whining even more pitifully.

“I’m good at translating,” Finn declares. “He says _two_ more fingers, then your dick.”

Puck grins and slides his finger out, then positions three fingers behind Kurt’s hole. “Yeah, Pretty? That what you want? Just sit back and let me fuck you with my fingers.” Kurt nods and chirps his agreement. Puck pets Kurt's back with his free hand, urging him down, and Kurt slowly lowers himself onto Puck’s fingers while Finn watches. 

“He likes it,” Finn says.

"Good." Puck kisses the back of Kurt's neck. "C'mere, Finn."

Finn leans over so Puck can kiss him, and Puck can tell that Finn’s taken Kurt’s dick in his hand, because Kurt starts rocking himself up and down on Puck’s fingers. Puck kisses Finn deeply, then pulls back.

"Since you translate so good, does he want my dick now, you think?" Puck asks.

“Yeah, I think he does,” Finn says. “Huh, Kurt?”

“Yes,” Kurt agrees, letting his head rest back against Puck’s shoulder again. “I do.”

"Good." Puck pulls his fingers out and quickly unzips his shorts, freeing his dick. He lubes up quickly and grabs Kurt's hips to pull him up, then positions his dick. "Sit down, pretty baby." 

Kurt sinks down on Puck’s dick with a long, low sigh. Puck tightens his arms around Kurt, nodding at Finn and then down at Kurt's dick. Finn gets on his knees in front of Puck’s chair, moving forward so he’s between Kurt’s legs, immediately sliding his mouth down Kurt’s dick.

"Yeah, how's that?" Puck asks Kurt. "So tight, Kurt, so tight around me." Kurt is practically melting against Puck, relaxed and a little squeaky from time to time. His legs are dangling on either side of Puck’s, and Puck figures that from Finn’s perspective, Kurt is spread out like a buffet. Finn, for his part, rests both his hands on Puck’s legs while he’s sucking on Kurt’s dick, and Puck squeezes his legs together just enough to move Finn’s hands slightly. 

Finn grins around Kurt’s dick and winks at Puck. Puck chuckles and runs his hands down Kurt’s chest, then up again, underneath Kurt’s shirt. Puck rocks his hips up as much as he can without the lawnchair feeling unstable, and Kurt moves his body along with Finn’s mouth. It’s not as vigorous as when they’ve done the same thing on a bed or a desk chair, but Kurt doesn’t last very long usually, not when they’re both working on him. 

Kurt starts repeating “oh! oh! oh!” in his really high-pitched breathy voice, and Finn gives Puck a thumbs up. Puck grins and uses his hands to hold Kurt more firmly, thrusting harder into him. 

“Yeah, you’re so close, aren’t you, Pretty?” Puck asks. “C’mon, show us how good you feel.”

Kurt lets out a wail and jerks his hips, and Puck groans as Kurt clamps down around him. He angles his head to stare down at Finn, who’s sucking furiously at Kurt’s dick like he used to a lollipop. Puck moves his hands to Kurt’s hips and thrusts up harder, until he starts to come with a low moan. 

“You should stand up,” Puck manages after a moment. “Finn-you, not Kurt-you.”

“Yeah?” Finn says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Right, Kurt?” Puck says. “Shouldn’t Finn stand in front of you?”

“Oh, yes,” Kurt agrees, almost lazily. Finn stands between Puck’s legs, in front of Kurt, and lets Kurt yank his shorts down. Puck rests his chin on Kurt’s shoulder, watching Finn’s dick slowly slide into Kurt’s mouth, repeatedly. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” Puck says, his mouth close to Kurt’s ear. “Is it good, Finn?” 

“Yeah, Kurt’s always good to us,” Finn says, closing his eyes and moaning quietly as he puts both his hands on the back of Kurt’s head to guide him. 

“He’s so good,” Puck says, moving his head and kissing Finn’s hands. “So pretty.” Puck slides his head to Kurt’s other shoulder and watches them again, studying Finn’s face for a minute. “Yeah, come in his mouth, Finn.”

“Oh fuck,” Finn mutters, doing exactly what Puck told him to do, holding tightly to Kurt’s hair as he thrusts into Kurt’s mouth and comes. 

“Yeah, just like that,” Puck says, grinning against the back of Kurt’s head. “You two are so hot.” 

“Yeah we are,” Finn says, smiling with his eyes still mostly closed. “We’re so damn hot.”

“Okay there, Pretty?” Puck asks. Kurt nods, his eyes glassy. Puck chuckles. “You sure?”

“Oh yes,” Kurt says. 

“Can we get pizza _now_?” Finn asks. 

“Pizza sounds like a great idea,” Puck agrees. “You think they’d deliver it to us in the backyard?”

“Probably,” Finn says. He pulls up his shorts. “Want me to go in and order?”

“Kurt, you got your phone out here?” Puck asks. 

“Mmhmm,” Kurt says. “It’s in my front pocket.”

Puck grins at Finn. “See, you don’t even have to go in.” 

 

Before school ends for the summer, Puck convinces Finn they should go add autoshop to their schedules for sophomore year. If Burt _does_ let them work at the shop, it’ll be an easy GPA bump, to make sure they stay eligible for football, and if Burt doesn’t, maybe taking autoshop for a year will change his opinion for the next summer. 

Puck doesn’t even mention it to Kurt again, not for a few days, but when school ends for the summer on Wednesday afternoon, he drapes his arm over Kurt while they wait on Carole to pick the three of them up. 

He nudges Kurt’s side. “So when do we start?”

“He didn’t promise anything,” Kurt says. “He said he could give both of you a _provisional internship._ ”

“Huh?” Puck looks over at Finn, who shrugs and shakes his head.

“I can see we still need to work on your vocabulary,” Kurt sighs. “He said the two of you could hang around the shop for two weeks until he’s sure neither of you will break anything, and then one or both of you can start with pay.”

“You don’t want me for my vocabulary, Kurt,” Puck says, also shrugging. “Okay. So… when do we start?” 

“I’m just trying to give you every advantage,” Kurt fusses to himself under his breath. “Honestly, you’d _think_ it would be more appreciated.”

“We appreciate you, Kurt. For real!” Finn insists. 

Kurt sniffs dramatically. “I’m just trying to help, you know.”

“We can’t help that you’re smarter than us,” Puck points out. 

“I have found you both to be much smarter than I ever would have anticipated,” Kurt says.

“And?” Finn asks.

Kurt sighs. “And you can start tomorrow. Wear sturdy shoes.”

“Awesome.” Puck grins. “We should all sleep over at your place, Finn, and your mom can give us a ride.”

“That’s a great idea,” Finn says. “We’ll get pizza!”

“Can we please get something other than Meat Fiesta this time, at least?” Kurt asks.

“Sure.” Puck grins at Kurt. “Then we’ll have a meat fiesta in Finn’s room after.”

Kurt lets out an offended-sounding chirp that Puck knows he doesn’t really mean. Finn just smiles widely. Carole pulls up and waves enthusiastically at the three of them, and Puck stands up, nudging Kurt and Finn in their sides. 

“You love the meat fiesta,” Puck whispers in Kurt’s ear as they walk towards Carole’s car. Kurt squawks just as they reach the car, and Carole looks alarmed. 

“Kurt, honey, are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” Kurt says in a high-pitched voiced, a strained smile on his face. 

“Loves it,” Finn leans over and whispers to Puck. 

Puck grins at Finn and then looks at Carole in the front. “Hey, Mrs. H, we can sleepover, right? And you can give us a ride in the morning?”

“I guess.” Carole frowns and looks at Finn. “Finn, where are you going?”

“To work,” Finn says casually.

“Work?” Carole stops at a stop sign and turns around to stare at Finn, then at Puck and Kurt, Puck guesses just for good measure. “You’re fifteen!”

“Mr. Hummel said we could!” Finn protests, or sort of protest-whines. “You can’t tell Burt no _now_!”

“You’re working for Burt? Why didn’t he mention that to me?” Carole continues through the stop sign when the people behind them start honking. “Is that legal?”

“It’s just a provisional internship for the first two weeks,” Kurt says. 

“Oh.” Carole frowns for a moment, then turns around again as she parks the car at Finn’s house. “Well, I suppose everyone will keep everyone updated on how it’s going? Finn?”

“Yeah, I bet Mr. Hummel will tell you everything about what a great job I’m doing,” Finn says. 

“And we signed up for autoshop next year!” Puck adds, grinning brightly at Carole. “See, it’s educational.” 

“You did? All three of you?” Carole asks, looking confused. 

“Yeah, so we can have, um.” Finn elbows Kurt.

“Prospects!” Kurt quickly fills in. “Career prospects for the future.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Puck nods and opens the door. “We can go, like, _anywhere_ with car, uh. Skills.”

“Uh-huh.” Carole looks a little suspicious, but she waves them inside and orders pizza, which Finn and Puck let Kurt choose. They don’t even stay up too terribly late, since they have to get up early when Carole does. Puck’s still yawning when they arrive at Burt’s shop, and he’s not sure if Finn’s fallen asleep against the wall. 

“Why so early if your dad isn’t here?” Puck mumbles to Kurt. “It’s 6:58.”

“Dad doesn’t have to open. He’s the owner,” Kurt says. “He’ll be here at 8. He said I have to find some coveralls that fit you.”

“I won’t be hard,” Puck says, blinking at the lights on the car that is apparently whoever _is_ opening. “Finn might need shortalls.”

“I’m sure there’s something,” Kurt says. 

“He’s really tall,” Puck insists, squinting at the guy approaching the door. “So who’s that?”

“Rico. He opens and works Saturdays.”

“Hey, Rico,” Puck says, trying to sound friendly, and he nudges Finn. “Wake up!” he hisses.

“Ah! Am I on fire?” Finn yelps, looking around. “Oh. We’re still here.”

“Your dad say not to let ‘em near the lifts,” Rico says, unlocking the front of the shop. “Or the tools.” He looks Finn up and down. “Maybe don’t let ‘em near the tires, neither.”

“Can I sit on the tires?” Finn whispers to Kurt.

“You can’t do anything until you have coveralls,” Kurt whispers back. 

“Are we just here so you can dress us?” Puck asks. “Kurt, we let you do that anyway!”

Rico gives the three of them an odd look, but Puck isn’t sure if it’s because Rico heard what he said to Kurt, or because Finn is stacking wrenches in a little log cabin.

“Don’t touch those,” Rico says to Finn. Finn gives Rico the same grin he usually saves for Carole, then unstacks the wrenches and lays them back on the bench. 

“Come see if these will fit,” Kurt calls, holding up two pairs of coveralls. “We used to have a former OSU basketball player working here, before he developed the meth problem.”

“Don’t tell my ma that!” Puck says, wide-eyed. “She _still_ asks if I’m sure I’m gay, and if it’s not really drugs.”

“I don’t see how doing drugs would make you think you’re gay,” Finn says, taking the coveralls from Kurt and pulling them on. “Hey, these are too long!”

“You can roll them at the cuffs,” Kurt says. “I’m sure you’ll grow into them.”

“Probably by the end of the summer,” Puck agrees, looking Finn over. “That’s pretty hot.” He looks over at Kurt. “Those other ones for me? And do we have to be fully clothed under them?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Kurt stresses. 

“What if it’s like a hundred degrees out?” Finn asks. “Can we just wear underwear under them then?”

“ _No_!” 

“Underwear and t-shirts?” Finn asks, giving Kurt a hopeful smile.

“It’d make breaktime easier,” Puck points out. 

“You _absolutely_ cannot get undressed at break time!” Kurt shrieks. “We have to act—act—”

“Not gay?” Finn offers.

“Like we’re not all doing what we’re doing!” Kurt replies. 

“No, see, I checked!” Puck protests. “We each get two breaks. So we rotate who takes a break with who!”

“Awesome! A Puck break and a Kurt break!” Finn says happily. “I like this job already. Which break do I get first?”

“We should rotate it each day,” Puck says. “Oh, and at lunch it’s all three of us.”

“This is gonna be so much fun,” Finn says.

“It’s going to be a lot of very hard work,” Kurt insists. “And if you don’t pay attention, my Dad will fire you before your two weeks are up.”

“He’s not paying us yet, so I think it’s not firing yet,” Puck says. “And the breaks’ll make it worth it.” He grins at Kurt. “We could just rotate whose house we all sleep at.”

“Why can’t I use the lift thingy? I’d be awesome at the lift thingy,” Finn complains, pouting in Kurt’s direction, then over his shoulder in Rico’s direction. 

“It’s a state law. You aren’t allowed to do any work involving pits, racks, or lifts until you turn 16,” Kurt says, sounding like he’s either quoting from some kind of law book or possibly just quoting his dad. 

"So I can after my birthday? Sweet!" Puck grabs the other pair of coveralls and puts them on. "Yeah, it’s going to be really warm in these at the end of the summer." He smirks at Kurt. "Now that you've dressed us, what do we do?"

“I suppose I should show you around the shop,” Kurt says. “Don’t touch anything, please.”

“Can I touch Puck?” Finn asks.

“Is Puck a thing?” Kurt asks.

“Hmm. Sometimes he is, a little bit,” Finn says.

“Then when he is, no, you can’t touch him,” Kurt replies primly. 

Finn frowns. “These rules are very... that thing that means you just make them up however you want whether they make any sense or not.”

“The word you’re looking for is ‘arbitrary’, and no, I’m not making them up however I want,” Kurt counters, flipping his hair off his forehead with his fingers and looking even haughtier than normal. 

“It sounds arbor-trary to me,” Finn insists. 

“I’m sure it _would_ ,” Kurt replies, and immediately starts giggling.

“What? What’s funny?” Finn demands. 

“Don’t laugh at us!” Puck says, frowning. 

“I’m not!” Kurt protests. “He said ‘arbor’, and ‘arbor’ means—oh, nevermind.” He huffs and flips his hair again, turning towards a large metal cabinet. “These are socket wrenches. Don’t touch them.”

“Kurt?” Puck says, peering at them. “If we can’t touch anything, how are we going to learn anything?”

“You can touch them when my dad tells you to,” Kurt says. “These are oil filters. You’ll change a lot of oil here.”

“Can I touch them?” Finn asks eagerly.

“No.”

“I won’t hurt them!” Finn says.

“Fine, you can hold this one,” Kurt says, handing an oil filter to Finn. “Are you happy now?”

“Yeah! Cool! My first oil filter!”

“No, I mean, you’ve been in class with me all year,” Puck points out. “Lecturing doesn’t exactly teach me anything.”

“You can have time for hands-on instruction when my dad gets here. _My_ job is to show you where everything is, and to not let you touch any of it until Dad gets here,” Kurt says. “Finn, you can put the oil filter down now.”

“But when I hold it, I feel useful,” Finn says, frowning pitifully at Kurt. “I look like I really work here.”

“Fine. Keep holding the oil filter until we find something else for you to hold, then,” Kurt sighs. 

“Oil changes. What else?” Puck asks. “Do you take out radiators or anything?”

“Hummel Tires and Lube replaces radiators, yes. I don’t personally remove any radiators, nor do I think you will be removing any radiators in the near future,” Kurt says. “You might get to rotate tires, though, once you turn 16.”

“Can I hold this hammer?” Finn asks.

“That’s a mallet, and you already have an oil filter,” Kurt says.

“Yeah, but I’ve got two hands,” Finn says.

“Yes, you may hold the mallet, as long as you don’t hit anything with it.”

“Body work?” Puck asks hopefully. “Painting cars?”

“No painting. Body work, yes.” Kurt looks around the shop. “That over there is a hydraulic lift. Don’t touch it. That over _there_ is the pit.”

“Don’t touch it?” Finn offers.

“And don’t fall into it, either,” Kurt says, with a nod.

“Cool,” Finn says. “I won’t.”

“Can we hide in it on our breaks?” Puck asks, smirking. 

“Only after you’ve turned 16,” Kurt says. “Otherwise, no.”

“Then where do we take our breaks?”

“The break room is behind the office. We can go there now. We only have a few lockers, so you and Finn will have to share one,” Kurt says. 

Puck grins at Finn. “I don’t know, dork, you think we can manage that?”

“If your stuff touches my stuff, it might make us gay,” Finn says, straight-faced and somber-sounding.

“We’d better be careful then,” Puck says, nodding. He looks over at Kurt. “Why do I bet your dad didn’t warn Rico or anyone else who works here that all of us are gay?”

“Because our sexual orientation isn’t pertinent to our ability to work on cars,” Kurt says. 

“Yeah, but it still might surprise ‘em, is all.”

“If they had a problem with it, they wouldn’t be working here,” Kurt says. “Even if my dad doesn’t know about me, he doesn’t tolerate that kind of talk here. He never has.”

“Okay.” Puck shrugs, even though he’s not completely convinced Burt really has a no tolerance policy. “Just wondered if we needed to pretend like it was classes or something, at school, or not-school.” 

“I think it’s like it would be around Mrs. Hudson,” Kurt suggests. 

“Except during our breaks, right?” Puck says, smirking a little. 

“As long as we’re sure Dad isn’t on his way in,” Kurt agrees. “And only in the break room or somewhere else non-public.”

Puck’s smirk gets wider. “I knew you’d like the break plan.”

“I’m not agreeing to doing anything!” Kurt squawks. “I just agreed that we could have a similar level of openness about _things_ , not that we’d do what we do alone!”

“Yeah, you kinda did,” Puck argues. “And we’d _be_ alone.”

Kurt sniffs, and makes his disapproving _hmph_ noise, but doesn’t argue. “Since Dad will be here soon, we should go back up to the front of the shop and see if there’s any paperwork we could working on. He usually leaves me the tickets from the night before to log in the books.”

Puck nudges Finn with a grin while Kurt sniffs, then cringes when Kurt mentions paperwork. “Uh… we could, um.” He looks around the shop for any ideas. “Restock something?”

“Deliveries don’t tend to come until nine at the earliest,” Kurt says. “Finn could return that oil filter and mallet, if you really want to restock something.”

“No, I’m good,” Finn says, holding up both items. 

“You can’t carry those around all day,” Kurt warns.

“Okay,” Finn says to Kurt, then mutters out of the side of his mouth to Puck, “Watch me.”

“He never said pockets didn’t count,” Puck whispers back, gesturing to Finn’s coveralls. 

“Oh, good idea, dude,” Finn says, stuffing both into the large pockets when Kurt turns his back to lead them into the office. Finn gives Puck a double thumbs-up. Puck grins and then makes a face. 

“Paperwork,” he whispers. “Is Kurt insane?”

“You know he is!” Finn says. “ _Paperwork_.”

“—the filing cabinet,” Kurt says, apparently having started talking as they were walking, which means Puck missed what, exactly, is in the filing cabinet, or possibly supposed to go into the filing cabinet.

“Hey, Kurt?” Puck says, waving his hands. “You were complaining two weeks ago I couldn’t alphabetize. Don’t let me near a filing cabinet.”

“I presume you’re able to write your own name and the times you take your breaks without any help,” Kurt says, opening one of the drawers. “See, the time cards are _right here_. It’s not hard.”

Puck grins. “Do you want my name, or my full legal name? ‘Cause maybe I can do the first one, but the second one’s harder.” 

“Do you want to get paid? Or do you want to just continue ‘interning’ for free?” Kurt asks, making the air quotes around ‘interning’.

“Interning sounds like a sex thing. And that doesn’t answer my question. Can I just put Puck?”

“You’ll have to ask my dad,” Kurt says, sighing loudly. 

“He knows my name, right?” Puck asks skeptically. “It’s not like you have another ‘Puck’ here, do you?” 

“He might require your full legal name to pay you, you know.”

Puck frowns. “You mean my first name and my last name. Right?”

“Right,” Kurt says. “I don’t suppose he needs your middle name.” Kurt looks like he’s thinking for a second, then asks, “What _is_ your middle name?”

“He doesn’t have one,” Finn answers.

“Of course he does,” Kurt replies, waving Finn off. “Puck?”

“Nope, Finn’s right.” Puck folds his arms in front of himself. “No middle name. But you said paperwork!” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Just tell me what your middle name is,” Kurt demands.

“Nope,” Puck says firmly. “What kind of paperwork?”

“Fine, be that way,” Kurt snips. He picks up a handful of papers and holds them out in Puck’s direction. “You and Finn should fill out these before Dad gets here.”

Puck shrugs and takes the paperwork. “Okay. Hey, do we get to watch you work?”

“That’s up to my dad.”

“Is he gonna watch _us_ work?” Finn asks. “Or are you?”

“Probably him,” Kurt says. 

“I’ll never get a raise,” Puck says with a slight sigh, picking up a pen to look at the paperwork. “Kurt, did you add the line about GPA?” he asks suspiciously. 

“No,” Kurt says firmly, putting both his hands on his hips. 

“Did you _ask_ your dad to add it?” Puck narrows his eyes at Kurt. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, and I’m insulted you would even imply such a thing,” Kurt huffs. 

“Uh-huh.” Puck snorts and writes ‘Tell your son it’s not really any of his business’ in the handwritten ‘GPA’ blank. He glances as Finn’s paperwork, but Finn just has ‘Yes’ written in the same blank. “Well, being employed sure is exciting. And not at all privacy-invading.” 

“What do I put down if I don’t know my Social Security number?” Finn asks. “Can I just put ‘yes’ there, too?”

“Nah, put ‘ask my mom’,” Puck suggests. 

“What is your dad gonna _do_ with all this information?” Finn asks. 

“Hire a hitman,” Kurt deadpans.

“Oh. Cool.” Finn continues writing, then looks up suddenly, eyes wide. “Wait. A hitman for _us_?”

“Why?” Burt asks as he walks into the office. “Did you boys do something that would make somebody want to send a hitman after you?”

“Uh,” Finn says, looking frantically at Puck. 

“No,” Puck says quickly. “Definitely not.”

“No. I can’t think of anything. Like Puck says, no for sure,” Finn says.

“Oh my god,” Kurt sighs, putting his hand over his face and shaking his head.

“Yeah, I think I’m just gonna ignore that one,” Burt says. “You ready to get started? Kurt have you fill out all the paperwork?”

Puck starts to nod, but Kurt blurts out, “Puck won’t write down his middle name _or_ his GPA!”

“He doesn’t have a middle name,” Finn tells Burt.

“Uh- _huh_ ,” Burt says. “Well, he can come back to it later.”

Puck waits until Burt’s back is turned, then makes a face at Kurt and sticks his tongue out. Kurt looks like Puck’s horribly offended him, then starts sulking, and Puck turns to Finn as they follow Burt out. “Maybe I’d better take the first break with Kurt,” Puck whispers. “But I still don’t have a middle name.” Or at least as far as anyone else goes, Puck doesn’t. 

“I know you don’t,” Finn whispers back, then reaches forward and grabs Kurt’s ass, squeezing it what looks like pretty hard. Kurt lets out a loud squeak.

“Did you say something, Kurt?” Burt asks, pausing to look over his shoulder.

“I saw a bug,” Kurt says in a high-pitched voice, which is how Puck knows Finn’s hand is _still_ on Kurt’s ass.

“You can pick up some more of those trap-things tonight, if you want,” Burt says, turning back towards the first bay. “Okay, you two meatheads pay attention and learn something, so I can tell Finn’s mom he had a good first day at work.”

 

“Burt’s lame,” Puck announces a little over a week later, while he and Finn are waiting for the Gordons to go to sleep. 

“Nah, he’s really nice to my mom,” Finn says. “And when they go out, they’re gone for hours, so that’s good.”

“No, I mean, him making Kurt be at home some nights each week, and some nights at his house _without_ us, on top of that,” Puck explains. 

“Oh, then yeah, you’re totally right, Burt’s way lame,” Finn says agreeably. 

“I mean, we’re fine, but Kurt probably gets lonely.” Puck shrugs. “You think we can sneak into the pool yet? It’s pretty dark.”

“You should bite me a little more first,” Finn says. He tilts his head to the side. “I have lots of not-bitten spots you could bite.”

Puck laughs and bites down on Finn’s neck, then licks the spot. “If I keep biting you, we’ll just end up fucking,” he points out. “But that’s also cool.”

“You could fuck me in the pool,” Finn offers. 

“We tried that, remember? The lube didn’t stay.” Puck frowns and runs his fingers over Finn’s chest, then bites down just over Finn’s nipple, tugging up on the skin a little before releasing it. Finn whines and pulls Puck’s head down again. “Yeah, yeah,” Puck mutters against Finn’s chest, then bites down, almost in the same exact spot. “You’re gonna be purple.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Finn agrees. “Fucking, then pool?”

“Mmm, something like that,” Puck says, nodding and moving his head down a little before biting again. “You want it harder? If we’re gonna swim it’d wash ‘em out.”

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Finn says. 

“I can tell,” Puck says, grinning up at Finn and grabbing Finn’s dick through his shorts. “Where you want it?”

“Back of my shoulder,” Finn says. “I like it when you bite me on my back, ‘cause then when I lie down I feel it.” 

“You could just sleep on your stomach,” Puck points out, but he nudges Finn onto his side and starts nipping at the back of Finn’s shoulder, his hand still on Finn’s dick. “Shit, did you bring lube out here?”

“Shit,” Finn says. “No, ‘cause I thought we were swimming.”

“I can jerk you off while I’m biting you,” Puck offers. 

“Cool, yeah, I like that.”

Puck spits into his hand and then slides it into Finn’s shorts and underwear, wrapping his fingers around Finn’s dick. “Yeah, sometimes it’s good just to jerk you off,” Puck says, moving closer and pressing his own dick against Finn. He nips a few more times at Finn’s shoulder, his hand moving slowly up and down and his hips rocking slightly. Finn moans, pushing back against Puck’s dick.

“Bite me _harder_ ,” Finn whines. 

“Just finding the perfect spot,” Puck says, letting his hand speed up. He pulls back and licks one meaty spot. “I like this one.” 

“Me, too, now _do it_!”

Puck chuckles and then bites down slowly, increasing the pressure little by little, not quite breaking the skin yet, and he grinds against Finn with his own dick. Finn thrusts into Puck’s hand, making happy-sounding whimpering noises, and Puck keeps biting harder until he can feel that he’s about to break the skin. He pauses, just holding his mouth there for a moment, and Finn whines. Puck speeds up his hand again and bites down harder, piercing through Finn’s skin, and Finn explodes, coming in Puck’s hand as Puck starts to taste blood in his mouth. 

He licks the bite a few times, then chuckles. “Was that your biggest one?”

“Nah, it’s still that time you bit me on my chest,” Finn says, sounding sort of stoned and dopey.

“That one took forever to heal.” Puck grins against Finn’s back. “You’re gonna scab up again this time, too.”

“Cool. It’s too bad we can’t take pictures of ‘em,” Finn says. 

“Who would we show them to?” Puck asks. “Just us?”

Finn shrugs and turns around to face Puck. “I’d like to look the pictures sometimes.”

“Maybe if we had phones like Kurt’s, we could.” Puck pokes at the bruises he can make out. “I should pierce something.” 

“Like what? Don’t do your ear.”

“Not my dick, either, dork.” Puck smirks at Finn. “Nah, the mohawk’s still badass, but it’s been a year. I need something new, too, you know?” 

“Don’t do your eyebrow or anything, either. Those look lame,” Finn says. “I guess you could do your nipple or something.”

“Yeah?” Puck looks down at his chest for a second and shrugs. “Okay. You wanna do it?”

“Now or after we swim?”

“Cold’d make ‘em stick out, right? So maybe after.”

“Sounds good to me. Looks like the Gordons are sleeping now, anyway,” Finn says, nodding at the dark house. “Did you want me to suck you off real quick, or wait for after?”

“Both isn’t an option?” Puck says, grinning. “Nah, c’mon, we’ll swim now.” He stands up and offers Finn a hand. Finn takes it and lets Puck haul him in the direction of the Gordons' fence.

"Maybe we should look up how to pierce stuff," Finn whispers as they slide into the dark pool. "You can get that disease where you're green."

“I think that’s if you use, like, rusty nails or gross shit,” Puck says quietly. “Your mom probably doesn’t even _have_ rusty nails.”

"No, you get tetris from rusty nails. Piercing stuff wrong turns you green and then stuff falls off," Finn insists. "I saw it on the news. It's that stuff that makes your legs fall off."

“My legs aren’t gonna fall off from you piercing my nipple, but sure, we can Google it or whatever,” Puck agrees, pushing off from the wall and swimming quietly. 

"I don't want your nipples to fall off either," Finn says. "You'd look weird with no nipples ."

Puck laughs, then continues laughing more quietly. “Everybody’d look weird with no nipples, dork,” he says, grabbing Finn when he swims past and backing Finn against the wall of the pool. “Want me to bite your nipples a little bit, before we get out of the pool?"

"Yeah," Finn says softly. He closes his eyes. "It's the best when you bite me."

“Better than anything else?” Puck asks, then clamps down around one of Finn’s nipples, squeezing it between his teeth. 

"Oh, fuck fuck fuck, yes," Finn says in one breath.

Puck grins and releases it, flicking it with his finger. “I guess so.” He bites down on the other one, his finger still teasing the first nipple. 

"We gotta get outta this pool now," Finn says. "We gotta go back inside."

“Yeah?” Puck pulls back and smirks. “You gonna come again?”

"In the house, yeah."

Puck laughs and climbs out. “You really think they’d notice?” 

"No, but lube doesn't work in the pool, and you probably should fuck me," Finn insists.

“ _Should_ ,” Puck repeats, nodding, and the two of them slip back into Finn’s yard and then into Finn’s house. “You should pierce my nipple first, so you can fiddle with it while I’m fucking you.”

"Lemme look it up first," Finn says. He shucks off his wet shorts and sits down on the chair in front of his computer, naked and still wet. "Ok, we need a piercing gun or piercing needle, and it should be sterile. So... like spray some alcohol on it first, right?"

“Yeah. Your mom’s got needles, right? You can just use one of hers.” 

"She's got a box of safety pins. Those are kinda needles."

“You think we should leave it in?” Puck asks. “Or steal one of her earrings?”

"A safety pin would look pretty badass, but I'll sneak in and see if she's got a nipple-size earring," Finn says.

“Yeah, okay.” Puck peels off his own wet shorts and flops onto Finn’s bed on his back. “I’ll decide which nipple or something.” By the time Finn gets back, Puck’s decided neither nipple looks particularly awesome or deformed, either one, so he’ll just let Finn do whichever side is easier. “Find anything?” Puck asks when Finn gets back. 

Finn holds up a tiny silver hoop. He has a bottle of rubbing alcohol in the other. "Safety pins are in my pocket," he says. "I got two different sizes, just in case."

“Cool. I was gonna let you pick which side.” Puck spreads his arms out to the side and shrugs. “Right or left?”

Finn leans over and squints at Puck’s nipples. “Right, I think.”

“Okay. What do we need to do now?” Puck asks. “I mean, I guess I just lie here.”

“Yeah, first I have to put the alcohol on it, so you can lie down or stand up or sit for that part, I guess,” Finn says. 

“I’ll just stay here.” Puck puts his hands behind his head and watches Finn with the alcohol. “How bad you think it’s gonna hurt?”

Finn frowns, then suddenly grabs Puck’s nipple and pinches hard. “Ow!” Puck yells, glaring at Finn. “What was that for?”

“Worse than that,” Finn says. He pulls a handful of cottonballs out of his pocket and pours rubbing alcohol into one of them. 

"Dork. I don't think you're supposed to pre-pain it." Puck shakes his head. "Good thing I like having you around."

“I’m not doing that one, anyway,” Finn says. He starts dabbing the cotton ball on Puck’s left nipple. 

"Still!" Puck says, frowning slightly at Finn, then realizing it's _Finn's_ right, anyway.

“Dude, stop moving so much,” Finn says. “Do I have to sit on you while we do this?”

"If you're going to sit on me, you might as well sit on my dick," Puck points out with a smirk. 

Finn laughs. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

“ _You’d_ like that, too.” Puck grins. “It’s a triple-win or something.”

“Can you actually hold still that way?”

Puck shrugs. “Seems like it’d keep me more still than I’d be just lying here, right?”

“Yeah. I can just sit on you and pin you down,” Finn agrees. “Okay, hang on a second.”

“Awesome.” Puck shifts his body a little, grabbing Finn’s pillow and folding it over before sticking it under his head. “Okay, _I’m_ ready.”

“I’ll be ready in a second,” Finn says. He gets up for a minute and moves some stuff around, then grabs Puck’s dick with a lubed-up hand. Puck thrusts up into Finn’s hand, trying not to move anything but his hips. 

“Yeah, you can keep me pretty still.”

“Good,” Finn says. He nudges Puck a little with his leg, then straddles him, holding up one of the safety pins in the hand not on Puck’s dick. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Puck says, nodding. “Go for it. Both its.”

Finn nods, slowly lowering himself onto Puck’s dick, dropping most of his weight onto Puck. He rides Puck up and down a couple of times before wiping his hand on the bed and tweaking at Puck’s left nipple. 

“Gotta get it ready, too,” Finn says.

Puck snorts. “Yeah, I guess so.” He puts his left hand on Finn’s thigh, focusing on how tight Finn is, how Finn always is, and the fact that Puck’s been hard for close to an hour, at least, helps with that. Finn keeps tweaking at Puck’s nipples and keeps riding him, then suddenly pulls the nipple up some, stretching it out.

“Deep breath,” Finn says, immediately stabbing the safety pin into the side of Puck’s nipple.

“Oww, jesus fuck that hurts,” Puck cries, biting his lip and fighting the urge to yell loud enough to wake up Carole. “ _Fuck_.”

“Shhhh,” Finn hisses at him, pushing harder on the pin. “Just focus on fucking me!” He pushes even harder, and the pin travels a little farther through Puck’s nipple.

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Puck says, gritting his teeth and rocking his hips up. “But you’re also poking a hole in me shiiiiit.”

“You asked me to!” Finn whispers frantically. “You _asked_!” He presses his thumb against the end of the safety pin, his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration, and pushes hard. The pin goes through the rest of Puck’s nipple with a sickening popping sound. “It’s through!”

“Uh-huh.” Puck grits his teeth more and keeps trying to focus on his dick and Finn’s ass. “I know I asked,” he finally says. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a motherfucker. Are you putting the earring in or leaving the safety pin?”

“Ride now I’m just riding you!” Finn says, doing exactly what he says. “‘Cause I gotta put more alcohol on it next and you’re gonna punch me or something when that happens!”

“I’ll try not to,” Puck offers, not very convincingly, and he thrusts up into Finn’s ass. “Why more?”

“So you don’t get germs inside it and make it fall off,” Finn says. He reaches for the bottle of rubbing alcohol. “I’m just gonna pour some on. You fuck me hard while I do it, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees, closing his eyes and grabbing Finn’s hips for leverage. A few seconds pass before some of the rubbing alcohol splashes onto his nipple and promptly starts burning. “Oh, fuck, shit, I want germs.”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Finn says. “Shit, where’d the earring go?”

“Oh fuck,” Puck whimpers, his hips still. “I’m never getting another piercing, okay?”

“Okay. Shit, where’s the—okay, there it is.” More alcohol splashes, this time just sort of everywhere, as Finn pours it over the earring. 

“Gonna have to change the sheets,” Puck mumbles, taking long, deep breaths. 

“I’m so sorry,” Finn says again. “Gonna pull the pin out on three. One, two.” He pulls the safety pin out of Puck’s nipple and splashes _more_ rubbing alcohol.

“You forgot three, dork!”

“I was lying!” Finn pokes the earring through the hole in Puck’s nipple, which makes it hurt even worse, and as soon as he closes the ring, he clamps his mouth down on Puck’s, kissing him hard and riding him even harder. Puck thrusts up into Finn for what feels like barely any time before he’s coming, whimpering into Finn’s mouth and then sagging limply against Finn’s mattress. 

“How’s it look?” Puck mutters after a few moments. 

“Kinda bloody. Really hot.”

“Is the blood subtracting from or adding to the hotness?” Puck asks after a few seconds of thought. 

“Dunno,” Finn says. “Hot either way.”

"Good. Badass?"

“Definitely.”

"Excellent. Badass and hot." Puck grins before pulling Finn down and kissing him hard, biting on Finn's lower lip as they separate.

“You think I should get one, too?” Finn asks. 

"You want one?" Puck asks. "Guess the question is if your mom's got another earring."

Finn shrugs and rolls off Puck. “I don’t really care either way. Just thought maybe you’d wanna get revenge or something.”

"Revenge?" Puck laughs. "You'd probably like it."

Finn grins at Puck. “Maybe.”

"Yeah, so says the guy that wanted me to bite his back so he'd feel it when he's in bed," Puck says with a snort. "You're more likely to want a new one every week."

“I could let it heal up and you could do it again in the same place,” Finn offers.

"Yeah, nevermind another earring," Puck says. "Just hand me one of the safety pins."

Finn holds up the slightly bloody safety pin he used on Puck. “Think we need a fresh one?”

"Dork. How many times have we shared 'bodily fluids' just in the last week?" Puck asks.

“If your blood gets in my blood, that doesn’t make us related, right?”

Puck laughs. "Not legally." He pauses. "We're that word that's not carnivorous. That one. Ask Kurt tomorrow at work."

“Cannibals?”

"No, the other one. I don't _actually_ eat you. Just bite you," Puck says. "The one that means fucking. Which, you know, you should finger me."

“Oh yeah?” Finn asks.

Puck smirks. “I know you, and you’re going to come fucking hard, so. I want to take full advantage of it.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Finn agrees, grinning. 

“You _guess_?” Puck laughs again and tosses the lube at Finn, propping himself up. “Definitely keep your shirt on around Carole after tonight.”

“Dude, I keep my shirt on around her all the time ever since she made me go to the doctor,” Finn protests. 

“She’d get together with my ma and go back to the drug thing,” Puck says, shaking his head. “C’mon, don’t you _want_ to fuck me?”

“Yeah, duh,” Finn says. “You gonna pin me down like I did you?”

“Yep.” Puck nods. “Unless you wanted me to try to hit a moving target.” He shrugs. “Just wanted to make you work a little for it, first.” Puck lies there, letting Finn finger him for a few minutes, then grabs Finn and rolls them both over. He grabs the lube and uses his hand to slick Finn’s dick before sitting down on it, then picks up the safety pin. “Slow or fast?’

“For which part?” Finn asks.

“Both, dork.” Puck leans forward as much as he can, hauling Finn towards him with his free hand and kissing him hard, biting on his upper lip this time. “But mainly the safety pin part.”

“Oh. Probably slow then.”

“Okay.” Puck slowly raises himself up before dropping down a few times, then puts the safety pin next to Finn’s nipple. “Probably we shouldn’t tell Kurt we used the same bloody safety pin, come to think of it. He’d do his little squawk.” He pushes the point of the pin just barely into the skin, waiting to see what Finn’s response is before he decides what to do next. 

Finn whimpers quietly and grabs Puck’s thighs, pulling him down harder onto Finn’s dick. Puck grins and pushes the safety pin farther in, staring at Finn’s face. His lips are pressed together, but Puck recognizes the look in Finn’s eyes, and he slides up and down on Finn’s dick a few times before pushing the safety pin almost all the way through, with a little more force and speed. 

“You like that?”

Finn nods, lips still pressed together, and bucks his hips up off the bed. Puck forces the pin all the way through, with the same popping noise his own nipple made, and then he pulls back, leaving it there. He rides Finn a little bit faster, then spots the other pin and picks it up. 

“You want the other one?” he offers. “If we’re gonna pull ‘em back out, I mean.”

“Yeah, cool,” Finn answers. He sounds like he can’t really catch his breath, and his eyes are wide and a little wild. 

“I can tell,” Puck says. “Didn’t realize you could get this hard.” He opens the other pin and starts to position it. “Slow again, or faster?”

“Fast,” Finn pants. “Fast is good. Fast.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Puck says, nodding and speeding up his movements on Finn’s dick. He pushes the pin as hard and fast as he can while still keeping it more or less straight, Finn’s chest rising up to arch towards the safety pin. Finn’s hands squeeze tight on Puck’s thighs, his dick pushing up into Puck, and he starts chanting as Puck can feel him come incredibly hard. 

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!” 

“Yeah, thought you’d like it,” Puck says, grinning down at Finn. He runs his thumb along both of Finn’s nipples, catching some of the blood on his thumb. “That one’s probably a new record. You look hot, though.”

“Yeah?” Finn’s still breathing heavily, running his hands up and down Puck’s thighs with a look on his face like he’s drunk. 

“Yeah. Stoned, too.” Puck smirks. “You want me to pull the pins out now? I mean, they are kinda hot, but you want ‘em to heal.”

“Yeah, don’t really want nipples rings all that much, anyway.”

“Leave that to me,” Puck agrees. He slowly tugs the first safety pin out, wiggling it just enough to get Finn to whimper before removing it the rest of the way. Puck does the same with the second one, then leans down and gently starts licking at both nipples, alternating between them. He looks at Finn for a second, then pulls one into his mouth, barely sucking on it. 

“Owwwww, it’s sore,” Finn whines. “Easy.”

“Yeah, I know,” Puck says, moving to the other nipple and sucking on it. “Did you want me to _stop_ , though?”

“Easy and stop aren’t the same.”

“Thought so,” Puck says smugly, returning to the second nipple and sucking on it again. He grins around it and slowly moves his hips before releasing the nipple and heading back to the first one. “Yeah, your dick likes it.”

“Yeah, well, my dick likes everything,” Finn says.

“Everything except girls,” Puck scoffs.

“Yeah, not girls,” Finn agrees. 

Puck keeps sucking on both nipples, alternating between them until Finn is hard again, still pressed inside Puck. He raises his lips just above one nipple and grins. “Yeah, you should fuck me really hard now.” 

 

Puck acknowledges, at least to himself, that he’d probably know even more about the shop if he wasn’t constantly side-eyeing Burt. He doesn’t _trust_ Burt, though, and yeah, sure, Kurt’s been fine for the past sixteen years, but that doesn’t really mean much. Puck’s dad was fine until Puck was old enough to announce he didn’t like basketball and, worse still in his dad’s eyes, he didn’t like Indiana either. The way Puck sees it is that every dad has his breaking point, and some people like Finn were just lucky. They didn’t have to worry about when that was. Puck wonders about Burt’s, because it seems like maybe it’s a contents-under-pressure thing. Is Burt’s eventual explosion going to be worse than Puck’s dad was, even? 

But the work at the shop is going pretty well, at least in Puck’s opinion. It sucks he’s not sixteen yet, because the lift and the pit look pretty fun, but the work they do get to do isn’t the most boring stuff ever. Puck’d rather work for days in the shop than go to one English class, for sure. The break system works out pretty damn well, too. They usually wait until Burt’s occupied with some complicated repair or overly needy customer to take a break with Kurt, but Finn and Puck don’t really worry about it, figuring Burt’d back out, embarrassed, if he found them in the break room. Probably more quietly than Rico did, the time he walked in on the two of them on break. Lunches are best, because it’s all three of them, but worse, because Burt wanders in and out pretty much constantly, so it’s hard to do more than a few kisses.

“Hey, isn’t a transmission mount a complicated thing?” Puck asks Finn under his breath a couple of hours after their lunch, near the end of June.

“Dude, any time I hear ‘transmission’ I just sort of go blank,” Finn says.

“Not like we work on ‘em,” Puck agrees, shrugging. “I think it’s break time.” He walks around the car and nudges Kurt’s side. “C’mon, Pretty. Break time,” he whispers. 

“Oh?” Kurt’s cheeks pink slightly. “Okay, break time.”

Puck grins and looks around for a second before running his hand down Kurt’s side, then heads towards the break room, closing the door as soon as they’re both inside. “I was thinking about blowing you,” Puck mutters in Kurt’s ear, putting his arms around Kurt and slowly moving them towards the wall. “What do you think?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” Kurt says breathily. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Puck says with a grin, backing Kurt against the wall and moving one arm to unfasten Kurt’s coveralls. “When you gonna give in and let us do underwear and t-shirts under these things?”

“Not today,” Kurt answers. 

“You know it’d make this easier,” Puck argues, kissing Kurt’s neck and working at Kurt’s pants. “Or you could start skipping the underwear. Commando’s pretty nice once you get used to it.” He slides the zipper down and kisses Kurt hard on the mouth, leaning both of them into the wall, his other arm still tight around Kurt’s waist. 

Puck’s tongue is still deep in Kurt’s mouth when there’s a loud banging noise from behind them, but Puck thinks that it’s probably something out in the shop, at least for two or three seconds. 

“What the _hell_ is going on in here?” Burt bellows. 

Puck breaks away and opens his eyes without looking in the direction of Burt’s voice. “Oh shit.” Burt sounds _furious_ , and Puck tries to shift himself to block Kurt from Burt’s view. 

“Get off him!” Burt yells, grabbing for Puck’s arm. “Get off of him!”

Puck spins around, trying to shove Kurt behind his back, and he groans when he realizes Burt is between Kurt and the door. Puck reaches behind him, trying to grab Kurt’s hand, and he squeezes it once, trying to motion Kurt towards the door. 

“Dad,” Kurt barely manages to croak. 

“Are you hurt? Was he hurting you?” Burt asks, still at full volume. “What were you doing laying your hands on my son!”

Puck lifts his chin and brings his hands up, curling them into fists and taking a step away from Kurt and away from the door. “What, are you going to lock him up or something?” Puck asks, then tries to whisper out of the side of his mouth to Kurt. “Go,” he hisses.

“I knew not to trust you, you little shit,” Burt says, stepping closer to Puck. Puck can see the veins standing out in Burt’s forehead, and how red Burt’s face it. “Kurt practically begged me to let you work here, and _this_ is how you treat him?”

“Yeah, ‘cause you knew I’d see through you,” Puck sneers. He takes another step or two away from Kurt, his fists raised, and looks over at Kurt. “ _Go_ , Pretty!” Puck yells, swinging for Burt’s jaw at the same time. He connects solidly and takes a half-step back, still looking at Kurt. “Go!”

“Puck!” Kurt screams as Burt staggers backwards. Burt recovers quickly, though, and takes a solid swing at the side of Puck’s head. “Dad!”

Puck steps back again, wincing and letting his hands fall to his side. “Run,” he hisses. “Kurt, go.”

“Stop!” Kurt shrieks. “Both of you _stop it!_ ”

Burt pummels at Puck for at least four more punches, though Puck starts to lose count after one lands squarely on Puck’s right eye. “Ow, fuck, go!” he yells. 

“You leave him alone! You leave my boy alone!” Burt shouts.

“What the fuck?” Finn says loudly. “Kurt? What the fuck?”

“Get Kurt out of here!” Puck yells between Burt’s punches. 

“No way!” Finn yells back. He grabs Burt and starts pulling him off Puck. “Mr. Hummel! Burt! Calm down!”

Puck turns and squints at Kurt, then slides down the wall. “Why didn’t you run?” 

“Are you crazy?” Kurt asks loudly, his voice shrill. “Are you both completely insane?”

“He was putting his hands all over my son!” Burt shouts, trying to take another swing at Puck, which doesn’t land because Finn’s got Burt by the other arm and around his neck.

“ _What?_ ” Finn asks. “What are you talking about?”

“Dad, _stop_ ,” Kurt says, and Puck realizes that Kurt’s not just crying, he’s a little hysterical, too, and he’d probably really upset if he saw himself in the mirror. 

“He’s sixteen,” Puck mutters, glaring at Burt. “What the hell’s your problem?”

“You’re twice his size!” Burt snaps back.

“I don’t understand why we’re all yelling and hitting each other!” Finn yells. 

“I can take a hit,” Puck insists. “Kurt can’t. That’s why.” 

“Finn, son, I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” Burt says, still trying to reach Puck.

“Find out _what_?” Finn asks. Now _he_ is starting to sound a little hysterical.

“We were taking our break, dork,” Puck says, starting to rub his eye and then wincing. “Shit, that’s gonna bruise.” 

“Dad! Stop hurting Puck! Finn! Stop hurting my dad!”

“Why are we all yelling?” Finn yells even louder, not releasing Burt. “Somebody needs to tell me what’s going on!”

“Oh, geez.” Puck groans and shifts his position a little. “We were in here, and I was gonna blow Kurt, and then bam! Burt came storming in yelling like Kurt was eight and I was some kinda molester.”

“There! You see?” Burt says triumphantly. “He admitted it!” He points his finger at Puck. “You were trying to force him to do sex stuff with you!”

“Dad, he wasn’t forcing me to do anything,” Kurt says, trying to pry Finn’s arms off Burt. “Just listen to me!”

“I know what I saw! He had you backed again that wall, Kurt! He had you pinned there!”

“Hey, I wouldn’t force anyone,” Puck says, glaring at Burt. “Have we _ever_ forced you to do _anything_ , Kurt?”

“No, of course not,” Kurt says. He keeps pulling on Finn’s arm, wiping his eyes and nose with his other hand. 

“I want to take my break now,” Finn says. “I want to go home!”

“We?” Burt asks. Kurt nods pitifully.

“I’m with Finn,” Puck says, wincing at the looks on Kurt’s and Burt’s faces. “We should go home now. And get some ice.”

“I can’t! If I let go of Burt, he’ll hit you!” Finn insists.

“I’m not gonna hit him again,” Burt says. “I just want to know what the heck is going on around here!”

“Dad, just let them go home. I’ll explain everything, I promise,” Kurt says. 

“No way,” Puck says immediately, shaking his head. “I didn’t fucking take those punches to leave you here alone with him.” He glares at Burt. “I knew it was a matter of time.”

“What are you talking about?” Burt asks, letting his arm drop.

“Puck! My dad would never lay a hand on me,” Kurt says. He finally manages to elbow Finn out of the way, putting his hand on Burt’s shoulder. 

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t,” Burt says. “Where’d you get some kind of crazy idea like that, kid?”

Puck snorts disbelievingly. “Yeah, right. Sure you wouldn’t. ‘Cause I wouldn’t let you.” He shakes his head. “Finn never had to worry about it.”

“Can I call my mom? I’m calling my mom!” Finn announces. 

“I think that’s a good idea, Finn,” Kurt says. “You and Puck should leave. I’ll straighten everything out with Dad.” He looks at Puck, narrowing his eyes. “We’ll be _fine_.”

“Glare all you want, I’m not leaving,” Puck says. “You can straighten everything out with us here. Or come with us.” He tries to glare back at Kurt, then at Burt, but he has to close his eyes. “Hurts.”

Kurt huffs stubbornly. “Fine. Have it your way. Dad, I’ve been having sex with _both_ of them.” He pauses for a moment, then adds, his voice a little more solid, “For _months_.”

“He wasn’t forcing you to do something you didn’t want to do?” Burt demands.

“No, Dad. Puck would never do that.”

“Am I calling Mom or not?” Finn asks.

“Yes,” Kurt says.

“No,” Burt says.

“Puck?” Finn asks.

“Can I get some ice?” Puck asks, opening his left eye and looking at Finn.

“You can get ice at my house, when we go to my house, after I call my mom,” Finn says.

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Burt insists. “Not until we figure this out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out. You thought Puck was forcing me to do something, I just told you he wasn’t, everyone’s hitting everyone else, and I think Puck and Finn should go home right now,” Kurt says. “You need to put some ice on your face, Dad.”

Puck snorts. “Nope, still not leaving you with him. And I see how it fucking is.” He forces himself up onto his feet, leaning heavily against the wall. Finn rushes over to Puck and puts himself between Puck and the wall, wrapping his arm around Puck’s middle so he can lean his weight against Finn. 

“I don’t think Burt’s gonna hurt him,” Finn says softly. “Please can we just go home? Please?”

“You don’t know,” Puck says. “Your dad died. You don’t get it. We _can’t_ leave him with Burt.” He ineffectually glares at Kurt. “Even if he is more worried about the one who got one punch than the one that got ten.” He doesn’t know if he actually took ten punches, but it was still a lot more than one. 

“Both of you have lost your minds,” Kurt says, looking between Puck and Burt. “Dad, I can’t believe you! And _Puck_ , I will be _fine_ here.”

Puck shakes his head, then stops and winces. “It’ll get worse now,” he warns. “I know we can’t watch out for you all the time, but at least tonight, Kurt. You don’t know how it is.” 

“No way in hell is he going home with you,” Burt barks. “You can forget that.”

“What do you even mean, ‘worse’? It’s not _bad_ to begin with!” Kurt says. 

“I’m calling Mom,” Finn says again, glaring at everyone else in the break room before turning and storming off into the office. 

"I see how it is," Puck says, glaring at Kurt. "I get beat up for you, but I'm just one of the people you have sex with it. Got it. I'm walking." Puck turns to slowly walk from the break room. He doesn't really want to deal with Carole or Finn, either, since none of them seem to get it.

“Puck!” Kurt calls after him. 

“Let him go,” Burt says. “Better that he’s out of here right now.”

Puck stops against the outer wall. "Yeah, better for you to beat him up. Don't bother calling me when he does, Kurt. I can't take two beatings in one day."

“Look, kid. I don’t know where you got it in your head that I would _ever_ hit my son,” Burt says, “but you’ve got it all wrong.”

“My mom says everybody sit down and shut up until she gets here!” Finn hollers from the office. “She says you too, Mr. Hummel! Sorry!” He pauses for a second, then adds, “I’m the one who said sorry, not Mom!”

"What if I don't?" Puck asks, leaning against the wall again. "And why wouldn't you? That's just the way it is." He doesn't know why Burt keeps insisting on it; all it does is make Puck even more suspicious. He wonders if he leaves, if Carole'd try to get his ma to ground him or tell him he can't go to Finn's or something.

Puck snorts into one hand when he realizes that Kurt's probably still got his coveralls unfastened and his pants unzipped, and considering how quickly everything happened, they're probably both still technically on their break. Puck doesn't get why everyone's acting mad at _him_ , since it's not like he invited Burt into the break room. Finn appears in the doorway between the office and the break room, where he stands with a look on his face that’s somewhere in between worried, suspicious, and really confused. 

“You have to. Mom said so,” Finn says. “I’ll sit next to you.” He walks over to Puck and grabs him by the hand, pulling them both towards a pair of folding chairs set up by the table. 

"Do I get ice now at least?" Puck asks. "If I'm staying here against my will and everything."

“Kurt can get you some ice,” Finn says, holding tightly onto Puck’s hand.

“Nobody’s going anywhere. We’ll just wait for Carole,” Burt says.

“Dad, I’m getting both of you some ice,” Kurt says. “Just sit over there, and both of you keep your fists to yourselves. You’re acting like a pair of cro-magnons!”

“I will if he will,” Puck says, glaring with one eye at Burt. “And I’m not a magnet.”

“You aren’t,” Finn agrees, patting the back of Puck’s hand. “That’s stupid.”

Kurt huffs loudly and goes to the break room’s refrigerator, taking out a tray of ice cube, which he puts into a pair of plastic sandwich baggies. He hands one to Burt, then hands the other to Puck.

“Are you going to be okay?” Kurt asks quietly.

Puck shrugs and puts the ice over his right eye. “I can take a hit,” he says, leaving the second part of what he said earlier unspoken. 

“I’m so sorry,” Kurt whispers.

Puck shrugs again, because he’s not really sure what Kurt’s apologizing for. If it’s for Burt, that’s not Kurt’s fault, and it’s not Kurt’s fault Burt came into the break room, either. The room is silent for the remainder of the time it takes for Carole to arrive, and Puck lifts his head up when he hears Carole’s footsteps. She stops in the doorway, taking deep breaths and looking wide-eyed, before she looks at Finn. 

“Finn, please explain to me again exactly what happened? Since you are the only one who doesn’t look beat up or otherwise in… disrepair,” Carole says. 

“Mr. Hummel beat the crap out of Puck for touching Kurt,” Finn explains. “Only, maybe Puck hit him first? Or maybe Mr. Hummel was going to hit somebody first? I’m not really sure. I didn’t get in here until Mr. Hummel was pounding on him.”

Carole’s mouth is slightly open, and she puts her hand over it, shaking her head slowly. “Okay,” she says, exhaling loudly. “Thank you, Finn. Kurt, honey, can you tell me what happened?”

Kurt sniffles loudly. “I was in here, in the break room, with Puck, and we were—we hadn’t _done_ anything yet! My dad came in and saw us, and I think he thought Puck was hurting me or trying to force me to do something, because he started yelling at Puck.” Kurt starts crying again and wipes his hand across his eyes. “And then Puck was yelling at me to go, and then Puck _hit_ Dad, and then Dad hit Puck.”

Carole looks confused when Kurt mentions Puck telling Kurt to go, and even looks at Puck for a moment, then takes yet another deep breath. “Okay. Burt?” Puck frowns and drops his eyes to the table. 

“I came in to get a bandaid, and I saw Puck. He had Kurt pressed against the wall and had his hands all over him, and y’know, Kurt’s so much smaller than Puck, and...” Burt rubs his head, then shakes it. “I thought Puck was forcing him to do something he didn’t want to do, so I yelled at Puck and I grabbed him, and he hauled off and hit me.”

“And then you hit him back,” Finn says angrily. “You hit him back a lot!”

“Yeah, I did,” Burt admits. Burt sounds like he’s at least somewhat ashamed of himself, at least. “I thought Puck was assaulting him. I thought he was forcing himself on him. Then he hit me, and I might’ve gone a little crazy.”

“Puck?” Carole asks. 

“I wouldn’t do that,” Puck says, looking up at Carole. “You know that.” Carole nods a little, gesturing for him to continue. “Look, I can take a hit. It’s not _fun_ , but I can take it. Kurt can’t. So I tried to get Burt away from the door, so Kurt could get out, but he wasn’t going, and Burt was still yelling and up in our faces, so I had to hit him, so he wouldn’t hit Kurt instead of me.” 

“I told him, I have _never_ laid a hand on my son!” Burt says. “I don’t know where he’s getting this. Kurt, have you been telling Puck I’d hurt you?” Kurt shakes his head, still crying. “Then I don’t know where he got that from. I’ve never hit Kurt, and I never will.”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s probably worse now,” Puck says. “‘Cause you made it this long, I figure it’s like a oxygen tank or something, more pressure.” He looks back at Carole and shrugs. “And then Kurt wanted us to leave him _alone_ with Burt!”

“Noah, why _do_ you think Burt would hit Kurt?” Carole asks. 

“Why do you think he wouldn’t?” Puck says. He glances over at Burt. “I’ve been waiting since we met him, but I guess you don’t know, since Finn never had to worry about it. And maybe it’s different if you’re a girl? But that’s what they do, eventually.”

“They?” Carole asks. 

“Dads. That’s what they do, sooner or later.” 

Carole just stares at Puck for a few moments, long enough to make Puck start to fidget, and then looks over at Burt briefly before walking up to Puck and crouching beside his chair. “Noah, sweetheart, do you mean your dad hit you before he left?”

“Duh.” Puck shakes his head. “I guess people just don’t talk about it or something.” 

“Puck. Kid.” Burt sighs. “That’s not how it works for everybody. That’s not every family. My dad never laid a hand on me or my brother, and I’d never hit my son. I’m sorry that I hit _you_ , and I only did that because I thought you were hurting Kurt.”

“Most dads don’t hit their kids,” Carole says softly. “Oh, Noah, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize. Ruth never said a word about it, but I should have—I should have noticed.” She stands again and pats Puck’s shoulder. “I think I understand now, though. You thought Burt was going to hit one of the two of you, and you were trying to protect Kurt?”

Puck nods slowly, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. “He wouldn’t leave, though.” 

“I didn’t need to leave,” Kurt says. “I didn’t _want_ to leave! I wanted to make sure you two weren’t going to kill each other.”

“I only hit him once,” Puck points out. “Just enough to get him to hit me instead.” 

“Of course we protect him. He’s our boyfriend,” Finn says fiercely, squeezing Puck’s hand again.

“Wait, your _what_?” Carole says, her eyes getting wide again. 

“Ask him,” Puck says, jerking his head towards Kurt and then wincing with the movement. “We might just be people he has sex with.”

“Oh my god,” Kurt says, putting his hands over his face. 

“That’s what you said!”

“Oh, my.” Carole looks, for the first time since she started getting information, a little overwhelmed. 

“That’s not what I said! I said I was having sex with both of you, not that you were _just_ anything!” Kurt blurts out. 

“Aren’t you our boyfriend?” Finn asks. 

“Wait, now. Who is whose boyfriend?” Burt asks. 

“All of us,” Puck says. “Well, not you and Carole. You’re her boyfriend, though.” Puck drops his head onto his arm. 

“All _three_ of you?” Carole says, sounding a little faint. “Finn? Is that what you mean?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. 

“So, all three of you are, what? Dating each other?” Burt asks. “Kurt, you’re seeing both of them?”

Puck lifts his head slightly and raises his good eyebrow at Kurt. Kurt shakes his head slowly.

“No, Dad. He means we’re all three seeing each other,” Kurt says. “At the same time.”

“This explains a great deal, suddenly,” Carole says, sounding almost amused. “I admit, there were times I was curious about Finn and Noah’s desire to have Kurt around so much.” 

Burt’s face contorts. “Are you trying to tell me that my sixteen-year-old son is involved in a _threeway_ with two other boys?”

“Well, he wouldn’t be with _girls_ ,” Finn says, sounding disgusted. 

“So there really was something sexual going on when I came into this break room?” Burt asks.

“Yes, but nothing forced,” Kurt says. “He wasn’t making me do anything.”

“I’m glad I’m already sitting down, or I think I’d need to sit down right now,” Burt mumbles. “Can I sit _more_ down? Is there a way I can sit down even more?”

“Why would someone turn down a blow job?” Puck asks. 

“Oh my god!” Kurt squawks. 

“Only a crazy person,” Finn agrees.

“Stop talking now!” Kurt says.

Puck grins as much as he can at Kurt. “There’s that blush.”

Kurt’s face turns even redder as he covers it with both his hands. Finn grins at Puck.

“Mom?” Finn asks. “Can I borrow your car to drive Puck to the hospital to make sure he doesn’t have a thingy?”

“Finn, you still only have a learner’s permit,” Carole says pointedly. 

“Can _Kurt_ drive us to the hospital? He has his license, Mom!”

Carole sighs and looks at Burt. “Let me talk to Burt for a moment, honey.” She goes over and squats down again, this time next to Burt, and the two of them talk in low whispers. Finally, Carole stands up and looks at the three of them. “Okay, Kurt, Finn, yes, take Noah to either urgent care or the emergency room, and then come to our house. Got it?”

“Okay, Mom,” Finn says. He stands up and pulls Puck with him, not letting go of Puck’s hand. “Come on, Puck, we’ll get you to the doctor.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “Just a stupid fight with a friend?” he asks. 

Carole looks at him questioningly for a moment, then nods slowly. “That’s fine. Isn’t it, Burt?”

“If that’s what you feel comfortable saying,” Burt says.

Puck shrugs a little and leans on Finn. “It’s fine.”

Finn supports Puck’s weight, both of them following Kurt out to Carole’s car, and as Kurt gets into the driver’s seat, Finn opens the back for himself and Puck to slide in. Finn leans over and clips the lapbelt around Puck’s hips, loosely enough for Puck to lie down with his head and part of his upper body across Finn’s lap. Finn runs his fingers through Puck’s mohawk and holds onto Puck’s hand with his other hand. 

“Are you both buckled?” Kurt asks.

“Just drive,” Finn says. 

“It’s not far.” Puck snorts. “Nothing’s far in Lima.” He closes his eyes, because the back of the seats in Carole’s car aren’t very interesting. “Bet they’re gonna call my ma.”

“We’ll just give ‘em my mom’s name and number,” Finn says as he continues to pet Puck’s hair. “It’ll be okay.”

“Other them. Burt ‘n Carole,” Puck says. 

“Maybe,” Finn says. “But who cares? If she gets mad, you just come and live with me. You can stay with me forever if you need to.”

“Gonna have to learn French if we go to Paris with Kurt,” Puck says, frowning a little. “Right? French? Kurt?”

“Oui,” Kurt says softly.

“Does that mean ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” Puck asks. “I don’t actually _know_ French.” He opens his eye and grins at Finn. “Except kissing.”

“Yeah, you know all about that,” Finn agrees. “You can French kiss me later, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees, closing his eye again. “Are we close?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there in a minute,” Finn says.

“Is he doing alright?” Kurt asks. 

“I’m not talking to you right now,” Finn answers. 

“What? Why?”

“‘Cause you picked your dad over Puck.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Kurt protests. “I didn’t pick anybody over anyone.”

“No, you did. I watched you,” Finn says. “Your dad’s the one who beat Puck up, but you were more worried about him than Puck. Did you even try to explain it to him or did you just let him hit him?”

“That’s not fair,” Kurt says.

“Yeah, and neither is Puck’s face being all bashed up because he was protecting you, and you were just gonna stay there with your dad!” Finn says, louder than before. 

“Burt wasn’t really listening to anything,” Puck points out, “but you were gonna just send us off, Kurt.” 

“To get you away from him so you could both calm down!”

“Yeah, but you were gonna stay there. And I wasn’t exactly trying to hit anybody after the first hit, you know. I _know_ you saw that.”

“You didn’t have to hit him the _first_ time,” Kurt counters. “If you had just given me more than fifteen seconds to try and explain before you _punched my dad in the face_!”

“You didn’t even try.” Puck shakes his head a little. “He was yelling at me and grabbing me, and I was pretty sure one of us was gonna get hit, but you’re still bitching that I hit him _once_?”

“Let’s stop talking about it,” Finn says. 

“Fine,” Kurt huffs. “We’re at the urgent care, anyway.”

“Good,” Finn says.

“Hooray for doctors,” Puck says flatly. They shuffle inside, or at least Puck shuffles, and he fills out some paperwork before passing the clipboard off to Finn, who fills in the rest of it, and when the nurse calls ‘Noah Puckerman’, the three of them all go into a tiny little room, which makes the nurse and then the doctor look at them oddly. None of them say anything, and Puck answers the nurse’s and doctor’s questions with as few words as he can. After some consideration, the doctor decides that Puck doesn’t have a concussion, but should avoiding getting beat up again anytime soon, which makes Puck snort. 

“Not like I plan on getting beat up,” Puck mutters under his breath as the doctor leaves after writing out a prescription for Tylenol 3. “Maybe I should ask that kid two years ahead of us about that fight club he mentioned, or something, if this is gonna be a regular thing.”

“You’re not joining fight club,” Finn says. “I don’t want people hitting you.”

“I think the idea’s to get better, so they don’t manage to hit you,” Puck points out. “I mean, that’d be good, right?”

“No fight club,” Finn insists.

“Are you ready to go?” Kurt asks.

“The Spanish Inquisition part two, why not,” Puck says, sighing. “I’ll get Ma or Carole or someone to get the prescription later.”

“We have ice at my house, too,” Finn says. “I’ll put some ice on you. You can lie down with your head on my lap and I’ll ice your face.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees, lying down in the back of Carole’s car again. “Huh. Wonder if your mom bought more cookies yet.”

“I’ll make Kurt look for cookies.”

“He might grab Burt and leave,” Puck says, closing his eyes. “Can’t help him, then.”

“Maybe...” Finn whispers, so quietly Puck can barely hear him. “Maybe making him our boyfriend was a bad idea.”

Puck turns and opens his good eye, then grabs Finn’s hand. “I hope not,” he says finally. 

“ _I’m_ your dork.”

“Yeah, you are,” Puck agrees. “You’re my dork. Dork.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says, running his fingers through Puck’s mohawk again. Puck closes his eyes again, trying not to fall asleep while Kurt drives them silently to Finn’s house. Once Kurt parks, Puck follows Finn out the door and then leans on him while they head into the house. 

“Your mom here yet?” Puck asks. 

“Hey, Mom?” Finn yells. When nobody answers, he shakes his head. “Nope, no Mom.”

“Do you want me to get you an ice pack?” Kurt asks. 

“Now you want to get me some ice,” Puck says with a snort. “Sure, why not.”

“He did get you ice in the break room,” Finn says quietly.

“Oh, yeah.” Puck shrugs. “I just remember asking for ice a lot before I ever got any.” 

“Yeah, get him ice,” Finn says to Kurt. Kurt nods, then stands there for a few seconds starting at Puck before going into the kitchen to get the ice.

“Maybe…” Puck starts to say, then trails off. “I don’t remember. This is all confusing,” he admits to Finn. 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Come here.” He leads Puck to the sofa and sits down, pulling Puck down so his head’s on Finn’s lap again, like it was in the car. “We’ll just sit here and wait for your ice.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees, closing his eye again. He hears ice changing hands eventually, and then the ice is on his face. “Okay, I got a question,” he announces a few minutes later. 

“Okay,” Kurt says.

“Why was that Burt’s first assumption?” Puck asks. “I mean, whatever, I’m bigger than you, but he had a whole scenario in his head pretty damn fast.” 

“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s ever really trusted either of you,” Kurt admits. 

“Well, I never trusted him either,” Puck says flatly. “But it’s good to know he thinks so highly of me.”

“ _I_ trust you,” Finn tells Puck. “And I’m totally trustable. Why wouldn’t he trust me?”

“I dunno. I mean, I did give him the side-eye from the start,” Puck admits. “But I’m feeling kinda justified about that right now.” He shrugs. “Maybe that’s why.”

“I think he couldn’t figure out why you wanted to be friends with me,” Kurt says. 

“Yeah, that’s awful of us, wanting to be friends with you.” Puck sighs. “Let me guess, he’s a lot nicer when ‘Cedes is over there and we aren’t.”

“He’s nice when any of you are over,” Kurt insists. 

“Didn’t say he wasn’t,” Puck says, but he pokes Finn’s leg. “Just that I bet he’s nic _er_ to Mercedes.” 

“I still don’t understand why he doesn’t think I’m trustable,” Finn grumbles.

“He’s just overprotective, okay?” Kurt says. “He’s worried somebody’s going to hurt me. He’s not even wrong to think that. If we weren’t friends and I wasn’t on the football team, you know what it could be like for me at McKinley.”

“Yeah, and we’ve made sure it’s _not_ that way,” Puck says, a little angrily. “You’d think he could at least see that. And you’d think you could stop acting like he’s totally in the right.”

“I’m _not_!” Kurt protests. “But he’s not some monster, either! Yes, he didn’t react well, but that doesn’t mean you should have hit him!”

“He hit Puck back a lot, so I think they’re probably pretty square,” Finn says. “Actually, Puck owes him a few.”

“Nobody should have hit anybody in the first place!” Kurt says.

“So if someone at school was yelling in your face and grabbing your arm, you wouldn’t think they were gonna hit you, or the person standing beside you?” Puck asks. “Bullshit, Kurt.”

“Well, I wouldn’t hit them first just in case!”

“I totally would,” Finn says. “Especially if I thought they were gonna hit you or Puck.”

“I was _trying_ to keep you from getting hit, but fuck knows all I’ve gotten out of that is you mad at me. Oh. And feeling whatever it is my mom says sometimes.” Puck stops for a few moments, trying to think. “Yeah. Used.”

“I didn’t use you. I didn’t ask you to hit someone for me. I didn’t ask you to protect me from getting hit,” Kurt says. 

“You could still say thanks for him not wanting you to get hit,” Finn points out.

“You could have owned up to something other than ‘having sex’,” Puck says. “Or, I don’t know, telling your dad you were _gay_ before now.”

“I didn’t want to upset him!” Kurt says. “And yes, Puck. Thank you. Thank you so much for punching my dad in his face and then getting the crap beat out of you. That helped me so very much.”

“I think you should do the thing my mom said to do again. Sit down and shut up,” Finn says. 

“Mmmhmm.” Puck opens his one eye and stares at Kurt. “Because telling him you’re having sex with us so much less upsetting than anything else you could possibly be doing with us.” He turns to look up at Finn. “I think he’s ashamed of us.”

“I’m _not_ asha—”

“You should not be talking,” Finn interrupts. “When my mom gets home, maybe you should just go back to your house and check on your dad.”

“Yeah, I’m so much stronger than Burt, my one punch was totally the same as all of his,” Puck agrees. “All he did was prove me right.”

“You are strong, dude. You have, like, really big muscles,” Finn says.

Puck snorts. “Yeah. I’m strong, compared to other people our age, anyway.” 

“And Mr. Hummel’s old. I think he’s even older than my mom.”

“Funny how Burt’s intentions count a lot, but mine don’t.” Puck closes his eye again.

“I think they count,” Finn assures him. “I’m on your side. Kurt just doesn’t understand.”

“Yeah. Guess not.” Puck sighs and turns his head on Finn’s lap, his face towards Finn’s stomach. “He’s not even listening.”

“I’m listening,” Kurt protests. “I just don’t know what you want from me. I _told_ him I was having sex with both of you so he’d know you weren’t forcing me to do anything I didn’t want to do.”

“Maybe a fucking acknowledgment that the worst thing that happened in that room _wasn’t_ me hitting your dad _once_ in an attempt to keep _you_ safe,” Puck mutters loudly. “That might be fucking nice.”

Finn keeps petting Puck’s head while they sit there silently, until Puck hears another vehicle pull up, and then he turns enough to make out Burt and Carole-shaped people coming into the room. 

“Does he have a concussion, Finn?” Carole asks, walking over to them and removing Puck’s ice pack, he guesses to look at the bruise.

“No, just a busted-up face from Mr. Hummel hitting him,” Finn says, glaring at Burt. 

“Did you get any kind of receipt or anything?” Burt asks. “I’ll cover any of the costs, don’t worry about that part.”

“Did we?” Puck shrugs. “I got a prescription for Tylenol 3.”

“Mom, can I take Puck to my room so he can have some rest?” Finn asks. 

“In just a minute,” Carole says, then turns towards Puck again. “I wasn’t sure what to tell Ruth, but I did call and tell her you might stay here tomorrow night, too. She wanted you home since it’s Friday night, but I think I talked her out of that, at least.” 

“Okay.” Puck nods a little. He closes his eye again. “Guess I’m fired, huh?”

“We’ll worry about that later on, okay?” Burt says. 

“I guess.” Puck pushes himself up off of Finn, then squints at Kurt. “Well, you can be happy now.”

“Why? Why would I be happy about any of this?” Kurt asks. Carole puts her arm around Kurt, patting his opposite shoulder. 

“Just meant you could run off now,” Puck says. “C’mon, Finn.”

“But I didn’t want to run off,” Kurt says to Carole, while Finn helps Puck up and starts leading him towards the stairs. 

Puck snorts. “Coulda fooled us.”

“It’s probably good if you and your dad have a chance to talk,” Puck can hear Carole saying to Kurt. 

“Let’s get you into bed,” Finn says, letting Puck lean most of his weight onto Finn’s arm. 

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees, heading up the stairs with Finn. “You should still go to work tomorrow.”

“Somebody’s gotta stay here and look after you,” Finn says.

“I don’t have a concussion,” Puck insists. “Burt likes you better than he likes me. I’ll be fine. I’ll order porn on the tv.”

“Y’know, I hear you talking, but all that’s coming out is _blah blah blah stay home with me all day, Finn_.”

“And pizza. I’ll order pizza,” Puck says, sticking his tongue out at Finn. “If you’re really worried about me, call Mike or the girls, they aren’t working.”

“ _Stay home with me forever, Finn,_ ” Finn continues in the same high-pitched voice he’d used before Puck started talking about pizza. “ _Rub my feet and put ice on my face._ ”

“Dork.” Puck snorts as they walk into Finn’s room. He manages to get his shirt off and then falls onto Finn’s bed. “You think your mom will order pizza tonight?”

“Yeah, I bet she will.” Finn pulls Puck’s shoes off for him. “If you don’t take those pain pills, I’ll sneak you up some box wine later, even.”

Puck grins. “That’s probably better than a pain pill.”

 

Finn does stay home with Puck the next day, but Puck manages to get him to go the next day. Puck putters around Finn’s house and answers the phone every time Finn calls, which seems to be on every break, lunch, and possibly some unauthorized breaks. 

“You’re calling again?” Puck asks, mid-afternoon, grinning a little at the phone. 

“It’s break time again,” Finn says. “How are you?”

“Bored. I probably shouldn’t order more porn, though,” Puck says, walking into the kitchen. 

“Kurt’s still moping around and looking at me with puppy eyes.”

“Maybe he needs to stop looking and start talking, then,” Puck says with a snort. “What about Burt?”

“He keeps telling me to make sure I let you know that you can keep your job, and you can come back as soon as you’re ready, and there won’t be any problems,” Finn says. “And then Kurt tells me the same thing later, but I ignore him, ‘cause I’m not talking to him.”

“It’s probably better if I wait until I can see out of both eyes,” Puck points out. “What are you doing about breaks?”

“Nothing. I mean, I’m taking them, but just by myself. I took the ones this morning with Rico.”

“Yeah. Well, no one works tomorrow. Guess we’ll see what it’s like on Monday,” Puck says. “Maybe Kurt’ll figure out what he wants by then.”

“I don’t care what he figures out,” Finn says, sounding grumpy. “He’s either our boyfriend or he’s not, and if he’s not, he can stop making puppy eyes. And anyway, he doesn’t get to have just one of us.”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. Maybe he’ll figure out if he wants to be our boyfriend or not.” Puck shrugs and opens the refrigerator. “I’m going to steal some wine now for tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” There’s a long pause, before Finn says, “Guess I better go.”

“Okay, dork. I’ll be here warming up the couch cushions.” Puck grins at the phone again. “Bye.” Puck ends the call without waiting for any response, then does flop onto the couch after moving some wine upstairs. 

The two of them don’t talk about Kurt again, not after Finn gets home or the entire next day, which Puck still spends at Finn’s house, because it’s easier not to explain things to Ruth while he still looks moderately beat up. On Monday, though, Puck gets up with Finn to head to the shop, and when they’re almost there, Puck nudges Finn. 

“Did you tell them I was coming back today?”

“I told Burt.”

“Wonder if Burt told Kurt,” Puck says, then shrugs. 

“No clue. Kurt didn’t say anything. Just the eyes, still.”

“Yeah.” Puck and Finn arrive at the shop before Burt and Kurt, but Rico lets them in, and Puck stands in the breakroom for a few minutes. “Never guess, would you?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “It’s been weird to eat in here.”

“Your coverall’s in your locker,” Rico says as he walks by the door. 

“Oh, right.” Puck opens the locker door, pulling the coveralls out and starting to pull them on. 

“You’re back.”

Puck stops and turns to glance at Kurt, who looks startled. “I can see out of both eyes again, so, yeah.” He shrugs and then looks at Finn. “Answers _that_ question. One left.”

“How are you?” Kurt asks. “Are you still in pain?”

“You know,” Puck says slowly, “I’d think you were worried about that, except it’s been four days since I’ve heard from you.” 

“I didn’t hear from you, either,” Kurt says. “I thought, from the way we left it... I thought maybe you didn’t want to hear from me.”

“I just figured I didn’t fit into your little priority list.” Puck shrugs. “Way I look at it, you’re the one that needs to figure out what you want.”

“Finn wouldn’t talk to me all week. Maybe I’m not the one who needs to figure things out,” Kurt retorts. 

Puck finishes pulling on his coveralls and closes the locker door. “Boo fucking hoo, he didn’t talk to you for the one day he was here when I wasn’t.” Puck leans on the door, folding his arms in front of him. “At least he’s not fucking ashamed to be around you. Or to tell _his_ parent what we…” Puck makes a gesture in the air, because he’s not really sure if it’s a ‘were’ or an ‘are’. “And don’t give me bullshit about not wanting to upset your dad. I think at that point, that wasn’t really a concern. You fucking told _Finn_ not to hurt your dad, when Finn was the only thing keeping me from getting punched again. Finn!”

“That’s right,” Finn agrees. “And I’d do it again.”

“I always know Finn has my back,” Puck says. “Just like I have his. Or yours. I just didn’t realize it didn’t go both ways.” 

“I have your back,” Kurt protests. “I was surprised, and I was upset, and then you and Finn made it clear that if I worried about my dad at all, I was doing something wrong.”

“No. What was _wrong_ was you worrying _only_ about your dad.” Puck shrugs again. “I thought—” Puck breaks off, shaking his head. 

“I wasn’t _only_ worrying about my dad!”

“He was trying to get Burt to stop, at least,” Finn says. “I guess that’s something.”

“Look,” Puck says, running his hand over his mohawk. “Let’s just put it this way. You didn’t seem real enthusiastic about being our boyfriend. If we’re just warm bodies, go find some other warm bodies.”

“Are you breaking up with me? For _both_ of you?” Kurt asks. His face gets paler than usual as he looks at Puck, then at Finn, then back at Puck. 

“Nope.” Puck scowls. “I’m asking _you_ if you’re breaking up with us.”

“I...” Kurt swallows, looking between Finn and Puck again, then his face sets into a frown. “Fine. Maybe I am. Maybe it’s better like that.”

“Fine.” Puck straightens up, arms still crossed in front of him. 

“ _Fine_ ,” Finn says, even louder. “Maybe it _is_ better like that.”

“Enjoy your time with your dad. Every night.” Puck rolls his eyes and heads out of the break room. “You won’t have to be embarrassed by us when you talk to him.” 

“Mercedes is probably gonna take his side,” Finn whispers to Puck as they leave the break room. Finn grabs Puck’s hand in his. “She’s gonna be mad at us.”

“He’s the one that broke up with us,” Puck points out. “Maybe she’ll be like that little country that’s always neutral.”

“Germany?”

“No, dork. That’s the Nazis.”

“Oh. Maybe Belgium.”

“Yeah.” Puck sighs and stops in front of one of the cars. “Maybe so.”

 

As far as Puck knows, no one talks to Mercedes on Monday, and on Tuesday, she appears at the shop during lunch, lecturing the three of them, which Puck mostly tunes out. The important part, from what he can gather, is that Mercedes thinks it’s all temporary, and that also she isn’t going to go to anyone’s house, but they’re all welcome to go to her house. Just not at the same time. Puck doesn’t ask how she’s going to decide if they all want to come over at the same time, even though he’s tempted to. 

The first few days, the three of them barely talk. Puck and Finn whisper a little bit, and they all communicate as much as they need to to keep the shop running and be safe while they’re working, but it’s not even close to friendly. Carole tries to talk to Puck and Finn on Tuesday night, but they glance at each other and then refuse to answer any of her questions or even look at her, so she eventually gives up and tells them they can leave the dinner table. 

By Friday night, Puck is sufficiently healed that he goes to his own house, dragging Finn with him for Shabbat dinner and temple the next morning, which does at least make Nana and Ma happy. On Monday morning, Puck can’t help but keep glaring at the back of Kurt’s head, which he figures is okay to do since Kurt’s the one that broke up with _them_. At some point, Burt must seem him doing it, because his expression changes, but it’s kind of weird, because he looks like he feels sorry for Puck. 

Puck _tries_ not to think about it, and he and Finn don’t really talk about it. He’s pretty sure it’s weirder than most breakups, since he and Finn are still fine, but that doesn’t change missing Kurt. Or missing what he thought they had with Kurt. He and Finn fuck even more than usual, and Puck almost runs out of places that are covered by t-shirts to bite on Finn. 

“Have you thought about polo shirts for a few weeks?” Puck asks a few nights after the glaring started. 

“No, but I guess I could,” Finn says. “Does that mean more bites?”

“It’d give me another inch or two, I think,” Puck says, studying Finn’s chest. “You’re kinda colorful, dork.” Puck runs his hand down Finn’s skin, stopping to poke at a few of the bigger bruises and flick at a couple of scabs. He doesn’t get off on hurting Finn, but he gets off big-time on Finn getting off, so the reminders are cool for that reason. 

“Yeah,” Finn says happily. “It’s awesome.”

Puck laughs and clamps down higher on Finn’s shoulder, close to his neck, and hopes a polo shirt really will cover it enough. Once there’s one bite there, though, Puck figures he might as well go for it, and when Finn gets dressed the next morning, there’s just a little purple blotch poking in one place. 

When Puck and Finn get to Puck’s after work on Saturday, the phone rings almost immediately, and Ma says it’s for them. “Yeah?”

“We have got to work on your phone manners,” Mercedes promptly says. “You two are coming over right now. Got it?” 

“Uh…” Puck covers the receiver and looks at Finn. “We’re being summoned to Mercedes’.”

“Oh. Can we fuck first?”

Puck shrugs and uncovers the phone. “Can we fuck first?”

“No!” Mercedes screeches. “Good grief, Noah Puckerman.”

“Hey, that was Finn’s question!” Puck pauses. “It was a good one, though.” He looks at Finn and shrugs. “Guess not. Okay, we’ll be over there.” He hangs up and grabs Finn by the hand. “Walk or hotwire a car?”

“I think I don’t want to go to jail tonight.”

“Okay, walking it is,” Puck says cheerfully. “Tomorrow night, maybe.” He grabs two pops out of the refrigerator and tosses one to Finn before they head down the street. Mercedes’ house is too far to walk any time except the summer, but they get there within the hour, and Mercedes smiles at them only briefly before herding them up the stairs and into her room. 

“Sit down,” she orders. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave this room!” 

“What if I have to pee?” Finn asks.

“There’s a window,” Puck says after Mercedes leaves and shuts the door all without answering Finn. “Or you still have your pop can.” 

“I’ll pee in her closet,” Finn grumbles. “Why’d she even have us come over if she’s just gonna stick us in a room and ignore us?”

“I don’t know.” Puck shrugs. “Maybe she’s not really Belgian after all, and this is some kind of lecture about—you know.” 

“Peeing out the window,” Finn says, nodding. “A peeing out the window lecture.”

Puck shrugs again, and they sit in Mercedes’ bedroom for a little over five minutes before the door opens again. “And I don’t want to see any of you until you _fix this_!” Mercedes announces. 

Puck starts to ask what she’s talking about when she reaches to her side and then yanks Kurt in front of the door, pushing him in before she shuts the door, and Puck glances at the doorknob warily when he hears it lock. “She put it on backwards!” he mutters, then looks between Kurt and Finn. “I guess this is Mercedes’ version of an intervention.”

“I had no idea she was planning this,” Kurt says. 

“Well, duh. It’s a crappy intervention if you know it’s happening,” Finn scoffs. “Don’t you ever watch tv?”

“Remember, they don’t have interventions on ANTM,” Puck says. “Even if sometimes they _should_ have.” 

“I miss that show,” Finn whispers.

“You can watch the show without me,” Kurt says.

“No,” Finn says. “I can’t.”

“Sorry we interfered with your enjoyment of it,” Puck says to Kurt, glaring at him. 

“Finn’s the one who said he misses it, not me.”

“Oh, even better.” Puck goes to the window and looks down. “Think we can manage to jump? Since we’re so awful to be around.”

“I’ll go first. I don’t care if I break my leg,” Finn says, sadly.

“I didn’t say you were awful to be around. Quit putting words in my mouth!” Kurt says. 

“You’re the one that broke up with us,” Puck says angrily. “You’re the one that couldn’t even call us your boyfriends to your dad. You’re the one who couldn’t handle anyone else actually knowing.”

“I _told_ him you were my boyfriends!” Kurt squawks, doing some kind of dramatic movement with his arms. “Or ex-boyfriends. He’s probably tired of hearing about it by now, because it’s the only thing I’ve been talking about for the last two weeks!”

“Yeah, great, you can tell him as long as he knows you aren’t, um.” Puck frowns. “Associated! Associated with us any more. That’s great.”

“You are _such_ an idiot, Puck,” Kurt says. 

“Hey! You aren’t allowed to call him that!” Finn says, standing and putting himself between Kurt and Puck, like Puck’s suddenly in danger from Kurt or something.

“Well, he is, and so are you, if you really believe all of that—that _bullshit_!”

“What are we supposed to think?” Puck asks, scowling at Kurt. “As soon as your dad finds out, it’s all ‘having sex’ and ignoring us and not saying that we’re your boyfriends and not talking to us for days—what would _you_ think?”

“I said ‘having sex’ because I wanted him to know _how_ serious it was,” Kurt says. “My dad knows me. He knows I wouldn’t have sex with somebody who I didn’t have very strong feelings for!”

“It sounds very not-serious,” Puck says, still glaring at Kurt. “It sounds not-serious at all.” 

“Then you’re definitely an idiot, because it _is_ serious, and I was trying to make him see _how_ serious, and then you and Finn were just so _mad_ at me, and all I wanted was for the people I love to stop _punching_ each other!” Kurt says, all in one long, angry rush. 

“Then why did you break up with us?” Puck demands. 

“Because I’m an idiot too!” Kurt yells back at him. 

Puck stares at Kurt for a minute, then snorts to himself and drops onto Mercedes’ bed. “Write that down,” he says to Finn. 

“I didn’t bring any paper,” Finn says. “Or a pen. I didn’t know I was taking notes.”

“Just remember it, then. Probably not going to happen very often.”

“So, does that mean we’re not broken up anymore?” Finn asks.

“I guess that’s up to Kurt.” Puck looks over at Kurt questioningly. 

“I don’t want to be broken up anymore,” Kurt says. “I miss you. Both of you.”

“We missed you too,” Puck admits. “Didn’t we, Finn?”

“Yeah. Being broken up was stupid,” Finn says.

“Come here, Pretty,” Puck says softly, holding out one hand. Kurt puts his hand in Puck’s. Puck squeezes it and tugs Kurt towards him. “Here’s the thing,” Puck says slowly. “If I think you, or Finn, is gonna get hurt, I’m gonna try to keep it from being either of you. I’m not huge like Finn or smart like you, but I can do that, y’know? And yeah, Carole’s been trying to convince me not all dads are like mine, but I’m not sure I believe her yet.” 

Kurt nods. “You can do a lot more than that, Puck,” he says, “but thank you for trying to protect me.”

Puck half-smiles and squeezes Kurt’s hand again. “Yeah, in a couple more weeks I can go in the pit,” he says after a few moments pass. 

“I really missed you,” Kurt says. 

“Just go on and kiss him so I can get my turn!” Finn says. 

Puck laughs, grinning at Finn before he does pull Kurt into a kiss, his hand in Kurt’s hair. “Shh,” he says. “If we’re careful, ‘Cedes won’t let us out yet.” 

“I am so mad at everybody!” Finn says loudly, grinning at Puck and Kurt. “I will be mad for five more days!”

Puck laughs again. “We’ll probably need pizza before then,” he points out, then nudges Kurt towards Finn. “Go on, go kiss our boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I will,” Finn says, grabbing Kurt and kissing him hard. 

"Or," Puck says while he watches them, "we could try to sneak out while Mercedes is distracted. Kurt can drive our get-away vehicle."

“We’re locked in, though,” Finn says. 

Puck laughs. “Kurt, find me a paperclip or one of those hair-pin thingies?’

“Let me see what I can find,” Kurt says. He goes to Mercedes’ dresser and rummages through a little painted box-thing on top of it. After a little while of searching, he holds up a hair-pin. “Here you go.”

“Awesome.” Puck takes it and works on the lock as quietly as he can, grinning when it clicks open. He turns the knob and brings his finger up to his lips. “Let’s go,” he whispers.

Kurt nods, and Finn grins, both of them following Puck out of the room without making much noise. They make it almost to the front door when Puck hears Mercedes behind them.

“Where exactly do you think you three are going?” she demands. 

“Away!” Puck says, opening the front door and starting to run for the car from the shop Kurt’s been driving for the past few weeks. 

“Bye ‘Cedes!” Kurt calls behind him as they run. 

“We looooooove youuuuu!” Finn adds.

“You three!” Mercedes yells. “You’d better call me tomorrow!” 

“Sure,” Puck calls back behind them, laughing as they reach the car and he waits for Kurt to unlock it. “ _Late_ tomorrow!”

As they all pile into the car, Finn and Puck both squeezed into the passenger seat, Kurt gives Puck a strange, suspicious sort of look.

"So, you could have picked that lock at any time, couldn't you?" Kurt demands.

“Um.” Puck glances out the side window. “I forgot?” he tries. It’s not exactly untrue; he didn’t think of it as soon as he heard the door close, but by the time they were discussing jumping out the window, he had thought about picking the lock, and discarded the thought. 

"I'm glad you forgot," Kurt says quietly.

"Yeah, me too," Finn says. "Are we kissing and making up more when we get home?"

“That was _my_ plan,” Puck says. “Maybe with less clothing.” He keeps looking out the side window for a few more moments, then nudges Finn’s side. “You’re taking up more than half of the seat!”

"I'm more than half the seat bigger!"

"He has a point," Kurt says.

"See? I have a point!" Finn says.

“Next time you switch cars, get one with one of those bench seats,” Puck grumbles. “I’ll give in on him having longer legs.”

"One of you _could_ sit in the back, you know," Kurt points out. 

“Why would we do that?” Puck asks in what he thinks is a reasonable tone. “That wouldn’t make any sense.”

"It might prevent me from getting pulled over and ticketed," Kurt says.

“Like I said, bench seat,” Puck says with a shrug. “We could tell the cop the truth about why. He probably wouldn’t believe us. Might let us off for creativity or something.” 

"Or arrest all three of us," Kurt says. "It's good you're both so very, very attractive."

"Because the cops will like us?" Finn guesses.

"Attractive and tall," Kurt says, dreamily.

“What do you have hidden in here?” Puck asks, looking over at Kurt and raising his eyebrows. “That we’d get arrested for? Did you finally sneak out something harder than wine or beer from your dad?”

"Oh, just my underage gay threeway. Nothing to see here," Kurt says.

"Do you think the cops would run the lights and sirens for us?" Finn asks. "'Cause that could be fun!"

"No, Finn," Kurt says.

“Maybe they have high school-level field trips,” Puck says to Finn. “You could call and ask. Sirens and lights without Kurt worrying about the arrest being on his permanent record.”

"I would appreciate that," Kurt says.

"Hey, we should all go to cop school and be cops!" Finn suggests.

"No thank you," Kurt says. "With my hips? And those heavy utility belts? Besides, it takes a certain complexion to pull off navy, and I don't have it."

"Do I?" Finn asks.

"No."

Finn frowns and sighs loudly. "Oh. That sucks." He brightens slightly and adds, "Maybe firemen?"

“We already said no hose jokes,” Puck says, shaking his head. “Besides, I guess if _I_ could pull off navy, maybe Kurt would appreciate the handcuffs.” He smirks at Kurt. “And we _like_ your hips.”

Finn nods his head as Kurt blushes. "Yeah," Finn agrees. "They're the perfect shape for holding."

All Kurt says is "Well" as he blushes brighter and keeps his eyes focused on the road. Finn grins widely at Puck and gives him a fist bump.

“That wasn’t a no,” Puck says to Finn as he brings his own fist up. “On the navy, the handcuffs, or the hip-holding.”

"Kurt never tells us no," Finn says.

"I tell you no all the time, Finn," Kurt corrects. "I just told you know about the cop thing."

Finn shrugs. "You don't say no about the important stuff."

“Which means we know how important Kurt thinks something is,” Puck points out, dropping one hand onto Kurt’s thigh and the other onto Finn’s. “Like concentrating on the last three blocks of driving. How important is that?”

"Very!" Kurt squeaks in his high-pitched voice.

“Oh, two and a half,” Puck corrects. “And you’re going slow.”

"Hey, Kurt?" Finn says. "Don't crash, okay?"

"Trying my best," Kurt says. "Trying very hard."

“But he’s not telling me to move my hand,” Puck says, nodding at Finn. “So my hand must be more important.” Puck slides his hand just a little higher as Kurt makes the last turn before Puck’s. “Definitely more important.”

"More important than not crashing?" Finn asks.

“I don’t think we could make Kurt crash,” Puck points out. “We’d have to try really hard, and I’m not sure it’d work.”

"No need to test that theory!" Kurt insists. 

"Oh, too bad," Finn says. "We're at my house."

“Oh, wait, I thought we were going back to my house,” Puck says, suddenly looking around. “Huh, this _is_ your house.”

“My casa is your casa,” Finn says.

“I don’t think that’s actually how the saying goes, Finn,” Kurt says.

“It’s probably how Carole feels, though,” Puck points out as Kurt stops and they climb out. “And I meant it, bench seat.”

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. 

Puck grabs Finn’s hand and Kurt’s ass as they walk towards the side door, smirking at both of them. “But for now we’ll go upstairs.” Luckily Carole isn’t home as they head in and to Finn’s room, and it’s at least an hour later when Puck pulls on his jeans—at least, he’s pretty sure they’re his jeans, because Finn’s would be too long and Kurt’s would be too tight—and heads down the stairs to get the three of them some pop and maybe some boxed wine. Everything feels good again, though, so Puck thinks that probably they don’t need the wine to feel a little drunk. 

He stops halfway down the stairs, hearing Carole’s voice talking to someone. No one answers, though, so Puck assumes she’s on the phone. He lowers himself into a squat to listen, since she’s not whispering or anything. 

“Mmmhmm, it’s definitely that one,” Carole says, sounding amused. “My guess is that they’re patching things up upstairs.” There’s a pause, while the other person answers. “And you’re going to tell me Kurt was happy the past two weeks?” 

There’s another pause, and Puck stifles a snort. Burt, then, probably telling him where Kurt disappeared to. Puck quietly backs up a few stairs, then stands and starts loudly going back down the stairs. 

“Hey,” Puck says without making any eye contact with Carole, going straight for the refrigerator and grabbing three pops. 

“Hello, Noah,” Carole says, and when Puck glances over out of the corner of his eye, she has the phone covered with her hand. “Should I plan on more for breakfast?” 

Puck grins. “Sure,” he answers, heading back up the stairs two at a time and balancing the pop in his arms. He pushes Finn’s door open with his foot, stepping inside and then shutting it with his foot before turning to Finn and Kurt. “Guess what?” 

“You brought cookies, too?” Finn guesses.

“He isn’t holding any cookies, Finn,” Kurt points out.

“You hid the cookies?” 

“No cookies involved,” Puck says, shaking his head and handing each of them a pop. “You don’t have to call your dad, though, Pretty. I think he knows you’re over here.” 

“Oh!” Kurt blushes and puts his hand up to his mouth. “He’s not here, is he?”

“Carole was talking to him on the phone. Or someone else really invested in you, but I’m guessing your dad,” Puck says with a grin, opening his pop and taking a long gulp. 

“So, that’s good, right?” Finn says, eager expression on his face. “Everybody’s okay with everybody now?”

“I told your mom yes, plan on us for breakfast,” Puck admits, still grinning. “Now we’re all stuck here.” 

“Oh no, it’s the worst thing ever!” Finn says, putting his arm around Kurt and squeezing him. “Isn’t it the worst, Kurt?”

“Yes, so terrible,” Kurt agrees.

“You can tell I’m very upset,” Puck says, shrugging and setting his can of pop down before stretching out on the bed. “How’s it go? ‘We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming’, right? We now return you to your regularly scheduled summer schedule of sloth.” 

 

Puck groans into someone’s shoulder when the alarm goes off even earlier than usual. “No,” he mumbles. “Why do we play football? I don’t want to go to practice. Not when it means alarm clocks and—” Puck cuts himself off as he raises his head. “It’s still _dark_ out,” he whines, dropping his head back on Finn’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, it sucks,” Finn says. “Let’s quit. We can play basketball instead.”

“We should have set the alarm for a half-hour earlier,” Kurt sighs. 

“What? Nooooooo,” Finn says. 

“I really wanted to have a chance to tone and moisturize my face before I spend the next few hours sweating,” Kurt complains. “I’ll just set it for an earlier time tomorrow.”

“Finn,” Puck says, still whining. “Our boyfriend is insane.” 

“I’m not insane. I’m practical!” Kurt insists.

“Yep, definitely crazy-pants,” Finn stage-whispers to Puck.

“We can help you after practice,” Puck says innocently to Kurt. “Anyway, Finn hates basketball, so we can’t really change sports.” 

“I’m not tall enough to play basketball, anyway,” Kurt says. “I’d have to just sit on the sidelines and watch.”

“That wouldn’t be very fun,” Finn says.

“I guess you’ll have to get up, then,” Kurt says.

“Why are you so evilly geniused?” Finn asks. “It’s really unfair.”

“So he can make sure we’re eligible?” Puck suggests. “That’s kind of a thing.” He groans and rolls over before sitting on the edge of Finn’s bed. “Maybe we need to try learning to drink coffee.” 

“I like a caramel latte in the winter,” Kurt says.

“Not fancy coffee,” Puck argues. “The stuff in a coffeemaker in houses.” 

“We should get a fancy coffee maker,” Finn says. “We can make you fancy coffee right here before practice!”

“That’s a lot to carry around to different houses,” Puck points out through a yawn. “At least no pads today. You think there’ll be a lot of new people trying out?” 

“I hope so,” Finn says. “Somebody’s gotta replace the seniors. Though...”

“Though?” Kurt asks.

“I mean, we could probably train a dog to catch better than Markowitz,” Finn finishes, grinning at Puck. 

“I was gonna say,” Puck says with a laugh. “Maybe we _don’t_ need new people. We definitely could use a new coach.” He finishes getting dressed and yawns again. “We’re getting breakfast between practice and work.” 

The three of them manage to get dressed in the mostly-dark and head down the stairs. Kurt’s still the only one with a car, though Puck did get his license after his birthday two weeks earlier. Puck figures at the end of the summer he’ll see what he can afford, and what he knows how to fix up, if it helps him be able to afford something. 

When they get to the field, they claim their usual lockers and change, and Puck notices a couple of newcomers who aren’t freshmen. He thinks he and Finn might’ve even gone to middle school with them, and the white one keeps eyeballing Puck, Finn, and Kurt kind of nervously. Puck throws his arms over Finn and Kurt’s shoulders as they walk out into the literal dawn. 

“Notice anything?” he whispers quietly to them. 

“It’s not hot yet,” Finn offers.

“In the locker room, dork.” 

“Oh, you mean the big dude who kept checking Kurt out?” Finn asks. “Yeah.”

“Excuse me? Nobody was checking me out!” Kurt protests.

“Okay, not just me,” Puck says, exhaling a little. “He kept eyeballing all three of us but yeah, Kurt, he was kinda checking you out a couple of times.” Puck frowns. “But then why eyeball us like that?”

“Jealous?” Finn offers.

“We’re not _that_ obvious,” Puck argues, and he can feel himself scowling. “Maybe we misread the checking out? What did his friend look like?” He looks over his shoulder for the two of them, and his arms tighten around Kurt and Finn. 

“Big,” Finn says, shrugging. “Didn’t look at us or anything that I noticed.”

Puck’s still scowling when the big dude and his almost equally big friend come out of the locker room, and Puck follows them with his eyes. They stand close enough to Puck, Kurt, and Finn that Puck wonders what exactly is going on. 

“Hey, I think I went to elementary school with that guy,” Finn whispers to Puck. “The big white one, I mean. The one that was checking out Kurt. He’s Dave... somebody.”

“I thought it was middle school,” Puck admits. “And why do people always check out my boyfriends in the locker room?” 

“Dude, it’s ‘cause we’re so hot,” Finn explains.

“So? Mine.” Puck looks at the big dude again and scowls. 

“We’re not exactly out, now are we?” Kurt says, wrinkling his nose. “And I’m the only one of the three of us who is apparently _obviously_ gay. Maybe he’s curious what gay looks like so he can make sure he avoids it.”

“He didn’t look like he wanted to avoid it,” Finn points out. “He looked like he wanted to _tap_ it.”

“Finn!” Kurt scolds. 

“Well, so? He _did_!” Finn insists. “Didn’t he, Puck?”

“Yeah.” Puck shakes his head slowly and lifts his chin in the dude’s direction. “Hey. Dave Somebody. You got a problem with us?”

“What?” Dave Somebody says, looking startled and a little dopey. “No!”

“You keep staring,” Puck says, eyebrow raised. “If you don’t have a problem, what is it?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing!” Dave Somebody insists. “I’m not staring.”

“You were totally staring,” Finn pipes up.

Dave Somebody scowls. “Shut up, Hudson! I wasn’t!”

“See! See!” Finn says excitedly, turning to Puck. “Told you I knew him!”

“Yeah, but he’s still Dave Somebody to me,” Puck says. “Especially until I find out why he was staring.” 

“Can you blame him? I mean, I stare at Kurt, like, _all_ the time!” Finn says. Kurt facepalms, shaking his head, his ears and the visible parts of his cheeks turning pink.

“Sure I can blame _him_ ,” Puck growls as he stares at Dave Somebody. “He needs to knock it the fuck off, or I’m gonna—”

“Puck, that’s enough,” Kurt says, lowering his hand. “It’s fine. I’m sure he’s not staring, so there’s really no need to—”

“Do we got a problem here?” the not quite as big friend of Dave Somebody interrupts Kurt. “Because I told Dave here that—”

“Hey, look, the sun’s all the way up finally!” Finn declares, and when Puck, Kurt, Dave Somebody, and Dave Somebody’s friend all turn and stare at Finn, Finn just grins and says, “What? I thought it was my turn to interrupt.”

“If you gentleman will excuse us,” Kurt says primly, plastering a polite smile onto his face as he hooks one arm in Puck’s and the other in Finn’s, pulling them in the other direction of Dave Somebody and company. 

“What?” Puck complains in a low voice. “If he’s gonna be a problem, I should take care of it now.” 

Finn glances back over his shoulder. “Hey! I think he’s checking out our asses!” he says, sounding a little too excited about it. “Maybe he’s like us!”

Puck scowls and stomps back over to Dave Somebody, dragging Kurt with him since Kurt isn’t letting go of Puck’s arm. “You cannot be checking out my, uh—checking out Kurt and Finn’s asses,” he hisses.

“Hey, personal space!” Dave Somebody’s friend says loudly, as Dave Somebody himself’s face starts contorting into a sort of mix of horrified and terrified.

“No, no, it’s cool, Azimio, it’s fine,” Dave Somebody says. “Nobody’s checking out anything, nobody needs space, it’s cool!”

“Puck!” Kurt hisses, trying to pull Puck back over to Finn. 

“You were checking out asses that are not yours to check out,” Puck insists, glaring at Dave Somebody. 

Dave Somebody’s friend, who is apparently Azimio, looks offended. “Stop calling my boy Dave gay, whoever you are!” 

Dave Somebody’s eyes widen, as he starts at Azimio and then at Puck, which makes his eyes widen even more. “Oh,” he says. “ _Oh_. Okay, no, seriously, it’s cool.” He glances at Azimio again, and when he sees Azimio isn’t looking in his direction, he gives Puck a small, but rapid head shake. 

Puck looks between Dave Somebody and Azimio, then nods once. “Puckerman,” he says finally. “Everyone calls me Puck. Kurt’s our kicker.” 

Dave Somebody nods. “Karofsky. Trying out for O-line.”

“Good.” Puck smirks a little. “You can keep Finn from getting sacked.” 

“Duuuuude,” Finn whines from a few feet away. “Come _on_. Let’s go do our laps before Coach yells at us. It creeps me out when his veins pop out.”

“Or he tells us to stop making eyes at each other,” Puck says over his shoulder, grinning at Finn. “Even when we’re looking at the ball. Probably why the team sucks.” 

“Probably,” Finn agrees. As they reach the track on the perimeter of the field, Finn looks back at Dave Somebody and gives him a thumbs up. Puck rolls his eyes, still grinning, and then raises one eyebrow. Finn starts into a slow jog, explaining, “Well, if he _is_ like us, we should make him feel welcome, right?”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, we’ll invite him to our next drag party. Or just to watch _RuPaul_.”

 

Their parents insist on no sleepovers, period, the night before sophomore year starts, which sucks, in Puck’s opinion. He gets up and makes Julie’s Noah-able, then grabs his backpack and his bag for football before going out to his car.

It’s a piece of crap car, and it’s over twenty years old, but it’s Puck’s, free and clear, and he’s already made it better than it was. It also has a bench front seat, which makes Puck feel smug. The old Regal starts without any trouble and Puck rumbles the few blocks to Finn’s to pick him up. 

“Better be waiting,” Puck says to himself with a smirk. “I really will honk.” 

Luckily, Finn is waiting on the curb in front of his house, backpack slung over his shoulder and what looks like a couple of Hot Pockets wrapped in a paper towel. He climbs into the passenger seat and holds the paper towel out to Puck.

“They’re both the same flavor, so take whichever,” Finn says. “They aren’t too hot anymore.”

“Awesome,” Puck says, picking up one of the closer to lukewarm Hot Pockets and taking a big bite. “We should have broken into the office like we talked about last week.” 

“We should’ve talked Kurt out of switching to French,” Finn grumbles through a mouthful of Hot Pocket. “Messed up the whole schedule.”

“ _You_ should take French,” Puck argues. “Kurt at least knows how to speak it. All you learned last year was hola and olé.” 

“No, I learned ‘siéntate!’ too,” Finn says. “Siéntate, señor Hudson!”

“That doesn’t sound very useful,” Puck says, shaking his head as he pulls onto the main road. 

“It means ‘sit down’. I stand up a lot.”

“He should be grateful you aren’t asleep,” Puck says around another mouthful of not-really-Hot Pocket. 

“The seats got too small by the end of last year,” Finn complains. “I hope they have bigger ones this year.”

“Pretty sure the seats weren’t shrinking, dork,” Puck says with a laugh. “Just three more years.” 

“I don’t mind the school. I just mind the small desks.”

Puck shakes his head as he pulls into the parking lot. “Yeah, I mind the school,” he finally says, staking out a spot as close to the school as he can without going out of the underclassmen lot. “I’d rather be at the shop, for the most part.” 

“You think you’ll want to keep working at the shop after we graduate?” Finn asks. 

“I dunno about working for _Burt_ or staying in Lima,” Puck admits, “but it’s not bad work. You know we’re just going to end up following Kurt.” 

“Yeah, probably,” Finn agrees with a shrug. 

Puck climbs out of the car and locks it, looking over at Finn. “Lock your door,” he insists. Finn pushes down the lock before closing his door, and Puck nods once before starting to walk towards the school, Finn behind him. Puck looks around the parking lot, not sure which of the shop vehicles Kurt’s planning to drive. “You see Kurt?” 

Finn squints around the lot, hand against his forehead to shield the morning sun from his eyes. “Yep! There he is! Oh, hey, is that shirt new? I think it’s new!”

“Yeah, he _would_ wear new clothes on the first day,” Puck say, grinning a little. “I wore clean clothes. That’s something.” 

“My shirt’s clean, anyway,” Finn says. “Hey, Kurt!” he shouts across the parking lot. Kurt raises his hand and waves like he’s riding on a parade float.

“No, mine aren’t even _stained_ ,” Puck says, semi-proudly. “And considering somehow the coveralls did not really cover all, that’s pretty good, right?” 

“Yeah, mine are a little,” Finn says. He raises his knee, pointing at the black smudge. 

“Good morning, boys,” Kurt says, coming up beside Puck and linking his arm through Puck’s. “Ready for another year?”

“Puck wants to work at the shop instead,” Finn says, “but I like your shirt. That blue is really good on you.”

“Thank you!” Kurt replies, batting his eyelashes. 

“Puck’s jeans don’t have any stains,” Finn announces. 

“None of my clothes do,” Puck says. “They’re all clean. Probably the only clean set.” He grins at Kurt while he slings his other arm around Finn’s shoulders. “Even on the inside. You should check.” 

Kurt lightly slaps Puck’s arm. “After school, maybe. I’d like us to make it through the first day pretending that we can behave!”

“Maybe sooner after we see our schedules,” Puck insists. “I still don’t see why we couldn’t make sure our classes matched up.” 

“Because I love you too much to let you go to jail for breaking and entering,” Kurt says lightly. “Finn couldn’t pull off that particular shade of orange jumpsuit.”

“That’s…” Puck frowns. “Yeah, okay. So Finn can’t do any job with orange or navy uniforms.” 

“No, he really can’t,” Kurt says.

“Puck looks good in orange,” Finn says.

“No one looks good in an orange jumpsuit, Finn. Trust me,” Kurt says.

“You’d be sad,” Puck says to Finn. “If I were in jail. They wouldn’t let you blow me.” A few people look at Puck as they go in the door and he’s speaking, but he just raises an eyebrow and they turn away. 

“They wouldn’t?” Finn asks, looking confused. “But I thought...”

“No, Finn,” Kurt says. “That’s just on television and in the movies.”

“Now I _definitely_ don’t want to go to jail,” Finn says.

“Fine, I’ll just go cry to the guidance counselor if they fucked up our schedules too badly,” Puck says with a sigh. “And here’s your homeroom. Maybe I’ll see you next period.” 

“Yeah, I hope so,” Finn says. He puts one arm around Puck, giving him a half-hug as Kurt squeezes Puck’s arm on the other side, then both Finn and Kurt walk into their homeroom. Puck stands there, arms crossed, until they sit down, then he heads to his own homeroom. Brittany’s in his homeroom this year, and Puck gives her a nod before sitting down one row and two seats away from her. Homeroom is boring except for getting his schedule, and he starts making three copies of it once he gets it, which makes him look busy, at least. 

He has autoshop first period, which should at least mean Finn’s in the class with him, and when Puck spots him, they grab a workspace together and Puck hands over a copy of his schedule. “What’ve you got next?” 

“English,” Finn says. “You?”

“French.” Puck shrugs. “I can always go break out the waterworks with the video game princess,” he reminds Finn as the teacher hands them a syllabus or something. “Hey, we know how to do all of this.” 

“Sweet. Easy A!”

“Exactly,” Puck agrees, putting the syllabus-thing away and resting his head on his arms. “I bet we won’t do anything fun today though.” Puck ends up being right; there’s a long lecture about safety rules, which aren’t even as strict as Burt’s rules, and then class is over. After French is his English class, and then before lunch he ends up in math with Kurt. 

Puck slumps into the seat next to Kurt’s and then grins at him. “Do you have deja vu yet?” 

“Oh yes, all over again,” Kurt says. “And by the way? I _am_ gay.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, and you’ll let me touch you now, too. Win-win for me.” 

“Mmmhmm. Win-win for both of us.”

“That works out pretty good.” Puck pulls off another copy of his schedule and hands it to Kurt. “I haven’t ruled out the waterworks yet, though.” 

“I’m sure that won’t necessary,” Kurt says, handing his own schedule over to Puck. “Oh, it looks like we’ll have history together. Finn’s in that same class, and so is Mercedes.”

“I haven’t seen Mercedes all day,” Puck complains. “Brittany’s in my homeroom this year, though.” 

“Fun.”

“Not close enough to start one of her weird conversations, though. Which I guess is something. Did Finn tell you about autoshop?”

“He said it was going to be a cakewalk,” Kurt says, nodding. “Or, in his words, he could ‘nap all semester and still make an A’.”

“Your dad’d be pissed at the ‘safety’ regs,” Puck says. “But Finn’s not wrong.” 

“He has his moments,” Kurt says. He smiles to himself as he folds his schedule up and slips it back into his backpack. 

Puck smirks. “I’m going to assume you meant Finn and not your dad.” 

“My dad has his moments, too, but yes, I meant Finn. Though I do stand by my initial assessment,” Kurt says. “So very, very cute. So very, very tall.”

“So very getting even taller.” Puck lets his smirk fade into a grin. “You thought about doing any of that?” 

“Hmph.” Kurt crosses his arms and faces the front of the classroom as the teacher walks up to the whiteboard. Puck chuckles to himself and mostly ignores the lecture, standing up as soon as the bell rings. Kurt takes his arm, just like he did earlier, and Puck steers them towards the cafeteria. 

“Having lunch with just the four of us is probably a lost cause this year, isn’t it?” Puck says as they walk. 

“It was a lost cause last year, too,” Kurt says. “We’re just too popular, Puck.”

“No duets from your musical at lunch,” Puck warns. “I have it on good authority we’re not supposed to sing at the table.” 

“Fine,” Kurt huffs, though he squeezes Puck’s arm. 

“Just wait until I introduce you to Nana,” Puck says as they walk into the cafeteria. He heads towards the lunch line without giving Kurt a chance to peel off to their table. 

“Nanas love me,” Kurt says. 

“Hey! My favorite people!” Finn calls out, bounding across the cafeteria to catch up to them in the lunch line. 

“Hey,” Puck says with a grin. “You’re like a awesomer version of the Snow White mirror. We don’t even have to ask if we’re your favorites.”

"Of course you're my favorites," Finn says. "You and Mercedes, but a little bit more you."

"Only a little?" Kurt asks, sounding offended.

"A lot more you," Finn corrects. 

"Better," Kurt says.

“You almost made our Kurt sad,” Puck stage-whispers to Finn. “I don’t think we’re supposed to do that.” 

"Well lunch is gonna make him sad. It's tuna noodle casserole and green beans."

Kurt grimaces. "Luckily, I brought my own."

"Yeah, but you have to kiss us later," Finn explains. "You'll be sad then."

“I like the tuna casserole,” Puck says. “It’s better than the undercooked fish. But I have gum in my pocket, unless Julie found it and stole it.” 

"I will start packing a little toiletries kit for each of you," Kurt says.

"Will it have an electric razor?" Finn asks.

"I suppose it could," Kurt says. "But why?"

Finn grins at Puck. "So we don't prickle your cheeks after practice."

Puck smirks at both of them. “Which cheeks?” 

Finn’s grin widens, showing all his teeth. “All of them.”

“Honestly!” Kurt huffs, turning red. “All I asked was that we make it through the first day with everyone pretending they can behave!”

“Hey, I haven’t dragged you into a closet yet!” Puck protests. 

“Yes, but if you keep this up, I might drag _you_ into a closet,” Kurt counters.

“Me, too,” Finn says.

“And Finn, too,” Kurt adds.

Puck grins as he picks up a tray to go through the line. “So where’s the problem, exactly?”

“Oh, look, there’s Mercedes,” Kurt says, calling out, “Mercedes! Usual table!”

“I think Kurt _wants_ us to drag him into a closet,” Puck says to Finn. “He’s just pretending he cares about it being the first day.” 

“We might have time after lunch,” Finn says. 

“We’ll make some time,” Puck decides, nudging Kurt’s shoulder gently as Puck gets his tuna noodle casserole. “We’re used to having lunch and breaks and everything.” 

“I’m gonna miss breaks,” Finn says sadly.

“We’ll still have two or three afternoons a week,” Kurt says. “We’ll take breaks then.”

“Not the same,” Puck says, picking up his tray and heading towards their table, where Mercedes, Mike, Santana, Brittany, and Quinn are all already sitting. “We’re a teen movie cliche,” he says to Kurt and Finn. 

“The awesome people table?” Finn asks.

“We’re football players and cheerleaders,” Puck says with a laugh. “Just not paired up like the movies would have us.” 

“High school royalty,” Kurt says, sounding like he’s quoting from something.

As Finn starts to sit down, he says, “Oh, hey, it’s Dave Somebody and what’s his face. We should get them to sit with us, too.”

“Why?” Puck whines, then adds, lowering his voice, “He might start checking out asses again.” 

Finn shrugs. “Or maybe he’d be happy to have some more friends.”

“But friends might empower him.” Puck looks at Mercedes. “What do you think?” 

“You put a lot of faith in ‘asses’,” Mercedes says. “He always looks sad when I see him at football practice.” 

“Fine,” Puck says with a sigh. “But if he does anything, I’m not going to be happy.” 

Finn smiles at Mercedes, and then calls out, “Hey! Dave!” and waves him towards their table. Dave Somebody looks surprised, but he and his friend walk over to the table, where Finn gestures for them to sit down. 

“Thanks,” Dave Somebody mumbles as he settles into his seat. Puck notices there isn’t any ass staring, at least, and Dave Somebody’s friend sits down before turning to each of the cheerleaders with a small grin. Puck shoves a bite of tuna casserole in his mouth to keep from laughing at the way he goes from Mercedes, who isn’t interested, to Santana and Brittany, who also aren’t interested, and then to Quinn. 

Dave Somebody’s friend’s face changes completely, and he goes from maybe-interested to completely besotted in less than five seconds. Puck takes more bites to keep from laughing; it’s kind of sweet and reminds him a little of the expression on Finn’s face when he’s just woken up. It might even work, too, since Quinn meets the guy’s gaze and gives him a little smile in return, but Puck definitely didn’t see it coming. 

“Azimio Adams,” he says to Quinn, offering his hand. “Miss…?”

“Fabray. Quinn Fabray.” Quinn puts her hand in his, and the dude turns her hand over and kisses the back of it, which requires Puck to eat even _more_. 

“You’re going to choke if you keep shoveling food into your mouth like that,” Kurt says.

“M’trying not to laugh,” Puck mumbles around his food. 

“What are you trying not to— _oh!_ Oh my,” Kurt says, as he takes in the scene of Dave Somebody’s friend holding Quinn’s hand. “Goodness!”

“Awwww!” Finn says. “It’s sweet!”

“I hope there aren’t any puddles,” Puck whispers. “Then we’d be in a different kind of cliche movie scene.” 

“Now we just have to find somebody for Dave Somebody,” Finn whispers back.

“We’ll call you the matchmaker, dork,” Puck says with a grin. 

“ _Love is all around us_ ,” Finn sing-songs, which makes Kurt giggle. 

“There’s a joke right there waiting for me,” Puck says. “It’s just waiting.” He shakes his head and takes the final bite of food from his tray. “But now you two need to finish.” 

“Sir yes sir,” Finn says, starting to stuff his lunch into his mouth as fast as he can manage it.

Kurt sighs. “You two eat like barbarians.”

“Yeah, you like it,” Puck says, digging into his pocket and finding the gum still there. He pops a piece in his mouth and hands one to Finn before offering the pack to Kurt. “You like barbarian-ish boys.” 

“That’s true,” Kurt concedes. Puck grins and stands up as soon as they finish. 

“We’ll see you in history, Lady ‘Cedes,” he says to Mercedes, who rolls her eyes but grins and whispers something to Mike, who laughs. As the three of them walk to put their trays away, Puck looks back at the table, noticing Dave Somebody’s friend is still staring enraptured at Quinn, and Dave Somebody himself seems to have been drawn into conversation by Santana and Brittany. 

“You know,” Puck says as they leave the cafeteria, squeezing through the doors in a row, “we kinda have an entourage now.” 

Kurt nods his head in approval. “As befitting high school royalty.”


End file.
